Reckless Hearts
by AmberAnodyne
Summary: In the back alleys of his beloved Seoul, Hwoarang meets his match in sarcasm and stubbornness. And while it may make for an interesting ride, perhaps such chemistry is too intense to endure.
1. Prologue

_Update: I've rewritten this chapter, fixed grammar errors, and overall just given it a face lift. Please tell me if you find any errors. :]_

_Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Tekken characters mentioned in this story, the wonderful people at Namco do. _

_

* * *

_Chapter 1- Prologue

* * *

_In a back alley on the bad side of downtown Seoul, a one-sided battle was being waged.__..  
_

"Finish him off, Hwoarang!"

"Come on, Dai! Kick his pretty boy ass!"

The crowd, a divided group of leather jackets and starched collars, circled around the two opponents engaged in competition. Calling out insults and encouragement, they were like hyenas waiting to tear into their prey as soon as it collapsed.

The two battlers were as contrasting as the spectators egging them on. The first, a fiery haired Korean, was sneering smugly and looked completely unscathed. The other, a Japanese boy of about 17 years of age, was the image of beaten, his face covered in bruises, a black eye, and a fat lip that was steadily worsening.

"You should give up now, kid," the Korean said calmly, eyeing his challenger with the look a superior gives to a peon not worth his time.

"Fuck off! Korean dog!"

Shrugging, the red head launched a powerful barrage of kicks at his opponent, sending him flying into the brick wall. The Japanese boy remained slumped against it, nearly knocked unconscious from the impact.

Walking over to him, the Korean picked him up by the collar.

"Who's the dog now?" he whispered, throwing the amateur to the ground. Turning to the fallen boy's companions he added, "Looks like you just lost a nice chunk of change, gentlemen."

They leered at him, pissed but knowing too well now what would happen if they didn't pull through with their part of the wager. Throwing the wad of currency at Scar, Hwoarang's second in command, they turned to stalk off. It was only an afterthought that saved the brutalized Japanese boy from sleeping against the wall that night.

"Nice job, Hwoarang. It's not much, but it's enough for a night of fun!"

Hwoarang looked up at the clap on the back. Scar was smiling at him, the wad of cash already safely stashed away. He couldn't help but smirk in reply to Scar's lopsided grin. His real name was Kyung-Sam, but a knife fight had left him with a jagged reminder from the corner of his left eye down his jaw, giving him a fierce appearance that was backed up by the fact that he seldom smiled. Hwoarang had never been fooled by this front, and knew that a nice guy was to be found under the stern appearance. That nice guy showed up sometimes, like now.

The rest of the gang circled around the two now, congratulating Hwoarang on another perfect fight. No one ever mentioned the draw with the Kazama guy, they all knew better.

Hwoarang looked around to see the few girls of the gang giving him bedroom eyes and seductive smile, their white teeth offset by brightly painted lips. He grinned cockily at them, figuring he'd have fun with one, maybe two, later tonight. It would fill the time, at least.

* * *

_Far from the violence of the beat down in that nondescript alleyway, in a place that was just as cold but hundreds of times cleaner, more subtle harm was being wrought upon those that did not willingly place themselves in harms way._..

The white walls of the hospital were blinding in their starkness. Blinding, and yet, so familiar. As was the chill, sickly smell of medicine and the sad stares of the terminally ill.

Faith walked down the seemingly endless hall, waving to bed ridden patients, who raised their hands feebly in response or gave tremulous smiles. At the end of the hall, she opened a door plastered with a brightly colored flower on it, musical notes dancing their way around it.

"Knock, knock," she said, shutting the door behind her.

"Hi, Fay!"

Faith walked over to her sister, hugging her gingerly so as not to bother the tubes coming from the girls thin body.

"How are you today?"

"I'm as good as I was when you asked me yesterday."

Faith smiled, maybe she was being a little paranoid.

"What's wrong, Fay? You seem a little upset."

"It's nothing, Melody. I've just got something on my mind."

"It's about me, isn't it? Don't look so shocked! I'm not naive you know. Besides, you're pretty obvious when you flinch from the IV like that. "

"You're too smart for your own good, you know that? And a _smartass_ to boot!" Faith laughed, ruffling her sister's hair.

"Well, I am a genius," the younger sister replied, striking what she thought looked like an intellectual pose. "So where are you going now? Germany again? Maybe France? England?"

Faith shook her head.

"Well don't leave me in suspense, sis! It's not healthy for me you know." A sly grin accompanied the words.

Faith shook her head, suppressing another laugh. Her sister knew just where to hit her, because the little twerp knew that she was her big sister's weak spot.

Relenting, she opened her mouth to reply to the question, but paused for mock dramatic effect.

"Aw! C'mon, sis!"

"Alright, alright! I'm going to Korea, Melody. No promises as usual, but keep your fingers crossed."

"I always do."

_And now, for the real story!_


	2. Confrontation

_12/18/08: Name changes for minor characters implemented. They are as follows: _

_Foxie- Hyun-Ok  
__Sugar- Sun Jung  
Spice- Sun Hi  
Viper- Jae-Hwa_

_The second installment of The Blood Talon's Heart. Please note that this chapter takes place at a later time than the prologue, so don't review telling me I have dates mixed up, I already know. And if you don't like coarse language I wouldn't recommend reading this story. Other than that, ENJOY!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Tekken characters, that credit belongs to the wonderful people at Namco. The other characters are the fruit of a bored mind.

* * *

_Confrontation

* * *

The alarm went off, echoing mercilessly in the small apartment bedroom. A man's hand emerged from the tangle of sheets on the bed, blankets laying forgotten on the floor. The hand groped blindly for the off button until the seeking fingers found it. The following silence seemed louder than the noise had been. If it could be called silence. The sounds of downtown Seoul could still be heard, although muffled, through the apartment walls.

A disheveled head of red hair was next to emerge, eyes blinking sleepily as they squinting at the glaring crimson numbers on the clock.

"Aw, shit. It's only 11:00," Hwoarang muttered, untangling himself from the confines of the sheets.

Scratching the remainder of his hair, he made his way to the bathroom. Passing the mirror before he reached the shower, Hwoarang cussed under his breath when he saw his reflection. It still pissed him off that those military pricks had cut his hair.

_'Nothin' like a cold shower to wake up,' _he thought, gently rubbing his temples as his head throbbed from drinking the night before.

Throwing his boxers on the floor, he stepped into the shower, turning the icy water on and shivering as it met his skin. Washing quickly, he got out and grabbed a towel, slightly stiff from not being washed in an ungodly amount of time. He grimaced as he wrapped it around his waist, walking back to the bedroom.

Opening the top drawer in a beat up dresser, he found his last pair of clean boxers.

_'This place really needs to be cleaned. The laundry needs to be done too,'_ he thought, noticing the sad state of his living quarters. _'Oh well, I can get one of the girls to clean it.'_

Smirking to himself, he got dressed in the usual, throwing on a pair of jeans, a muscle T-shirt, and a pair of old combat boots. He hesitated before grabbing his goggles since he had alway worn them to hold back his hair while fighting. Slightly shrugging, he pulled them over his head anyway, and left for the place his gang had decided to meet today, locking the door behind him.

The bustle of the city greeted him like an old friend as he stepped out from the two buildings his door was situated between, namely, his apartment complex and the one next to it. He smiled as he felt the full freedom of the streets for the first time in a long time. People gave him a wide berth when they saw his expression: a triumphant, almost predatory grin.

He had received a letter from the leader of his former military unit, the one he had abandoned, that said he had been acquitted because of unforeseen difficulties.

_'Unforeseen difficulties my ass. It's only because every man they've sent after me has been taken down. And they can't exactly bring grenades and tanks to drag me out of downtown Seoul.'_

He laughed at this thought, receiving even more odd looks from passerby. With a start he realized that he had already walked the distance from his home to the usual meeting place. Turning down the alley, he was greeted with enthusiasm when he reached the back.

The few women called out to him, showing flashes of skin beneath leather jackets and tight mini skirts. One in particular showed plenty of skin, smiling seductively and licking her lips. The men just asked where the hell he'd been, and a few clapped him on the back as he passed.

"Hey guys," Hwoarang said casually, walking over to his motorcycle.

This was where they kept their bikes, the jewels of the gang. Taking the cover off of his, Hwoarang examined it, checking it for any scratches that might have appeared and giving the tires a quick look over.

"There's nothing there that wasn't there yesterday," a voice whispered into his ear, a warm body pressing up behind him.

"That doesn't mean I don't have to check," he replied, continuing to look his bike over, slightly irritated by the woman's craving for attention.

Realizing he would need a favor from her, he turned reluctantly from his bike and smiled, a somewhat strained expression, at the woman behind him. She smiled back, the red of her lipstick creating just as startling of a contrast against her white teeth as ever.

"Hey, Hyun-Ok, I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

The woman, Hyun-Ok, raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into the slightest of knowing smiles.

Ignoring the triumph in her eyes, Hwoarang continued, "My place needs cleaning. The laundry needs to be done too. Would you mind doing it for me?"

"You don't mean for free do you?" she replied, leaning slightly forward with hands on hips.

"Of course not," Hwoarang answered, slipping a small wad of bills into the cleavage exposed to him.

Ever the observer, Scar stood back and watched the two exchange silent messages without either of them knowing or reading the others body language.

_'Well, I'm sure Hwoarang can read Hyun's,'_ he thought with a small smile. _'The woman sure is forward enough.'_

He frowned at the implications of the situation, however. He didn't like the idea of women in a street gang. There were too many dangers and they were a distraction to the men.

_'At least there's only three of them,'_ he thought with a sigh, looking at the three he was thinking about.

There was Hyun-Ok, flirting shamelessly with a distracted Hwoarang. She was dressed in her usual tight black apparel and the thigh high boots that seemed to be her trademark. Her jet black hair was left to fall free, brushing her chin at it's longest lengths, and her face was done in heavy makeup.

Scar shook his head at the impracticality of her whole outfit before returning his thoughts to the other two women.

They were known as 'the twins' when together and Sun Jung and Sun Hi apart. They're physical features were completely identical, but their personalities couldn't be any different.

Sun Hi was a calmer version of Hyun-Ok, with the tight clothing, heavy makeup, and constant flirtatiousness, while Sun Jung was completely the opposite, a casual dresser with a sweet nature that seemed out of place with the rest of the rough and tumble attitudes of everyone else had.

Scar almost smiled when he thought of the time the two more outgoing women had tried to force the timid one on Hwoarang, something Sun Jung would not take. She had gotten angry, telling the other two that they were sluts before slapping both hard enough to leave bruises. Hwoarang had had a good laugh at that one.

All three had been taken in off the streets and given shelter within the gang thanks to the redheaded leader's generous streak. Not to mention they could provide an excellent means of distraction during a hustle.

A sudden giggling made Hwoarang's second in command look up, bringing him back to reality. Jae-Hwa had started tickling Sun Hi, whose loud laugh was as known as her boisterousness. This led his eyes over to Hwoarang, who was stuck in an uncomfortable position with the ever-persistent Hyun-Ok.

Cutting in to save the redhead, he stepped forward and said, "Before you two start going at it, don't you think we should make some cash first?"

Hwoarang turned to glare at Scar, a searing look that said 'Don't give her any ideas'. Scar just shrugged slackly, he had only wanted to help.

"Just a suggestion..."

"Yeah. And it's a pretty good one. We haven't had a good fight in a while," Hwoarang agreed, grateful for an excuse to back away from the hungry-eyed woman before him."Who's up for it?"

Several people stood up or straightened from their positions leaning against the wall. All together, including Scar and himself, Hwoarang counted nine people eager to fight.

The eager group went to seek out opponents, but the other gangs took one look at Hwoarang and refused, knowing they stood no chance. They tried to bait them, but the others wouldn't take it.

One man, a little younger than Hwoarang, complained, "Where the hell is all the action?"

"They're obviously not going to fight us if Hwoarang's a challenger," Scar replied calmly.

"Fine then, I won't fight the cowards. I'm sure you can kick their asses anyway."

The complaining man, Jae-Hwa, was going to reply when a feral grin spread across his face.

"Never mind. Fresh meat."

The others looked ahead to where Jae-Hwa was staring, and saw a woman sitting on a nearby bench, oblivious to everything but the book she was reading.

_'She's definitely a tourist,'_ Hwoarang noted, taking in her current attire and hair. _'Cocky,'_ he thought, _'Being so confident in a strange city like this. Wonder how she'' react to Jae-Hwa...'_

The woman didn't react how he expected. In fact, she didn't react at all.

Hwoarang watched as Jae-Hwa tried desperately to catch her attention, saying things that couldn't be heard from his position, and hovering over her.

The only reason Hwoarang knew the woman was aware of her admirer was the slight creasing of her forehead and the way her grip tightened on the book.

Jae-Hwa gave up, stalking back to the gang, all of whom had wry grins on their faces.

"Lost your touch?" Scar snickered.

"Shut up!" His pride stung, Jae-Hwa started lashing out.

"You fuckin' foreigners! You think you're hot shit and the rest of us are nothing! Well FUCK YOU! You stupid woman! You probably don't even speak Korean! Haha... You're not worth my time, you ugly bitch!"

With that said, or rather, yelled, Jae-Hwa turned on his heel, ready to saunter away. The rest of the gang turned with him, but stopped at the sound of a book being closed with a soft thump. Simultaneously, all turned back to see the woman standing in a defensive position, her eyes burning with anger as she stared at Jae-Hwa.

In steady Korean, she said, "Why don't you come say that to my face? Or are you afraid of an ugly bitch who can understand you?"

Jae-Hwa snarled, lunging forward, only to be stopped by Hwoarang's extended arm.

"I don't think you should, man." There was something about her stance that bothered him. Her attitude and body language conveyed that she was neither intimidated or afraid of of being faced against unequal odds. She must be either stupid or overly confident.

"I'll be fine. There's nothing she can do to me," Jae-Hwa growled, pushing past his leader and running toward the woman.

He didn't get too close, though. As soon as he was withing reach, she brought her left leg up, heel smashing solidly with his chin. The impact dropped him like a stone.

Before he could stop them, two of Jae-Hwa's friends rushed towards the woman

She dispatched them as easily as she had Jae-Hwa, her legs doing most the work.

Not wanting anyone else to fight this intriguing stranger, Hwoarang held his hand up in a halting motion. He walked toward the woman, who now watched him warily.

Scar stood back, watching the whole scene with interest. He also watched Hyun-Ok, who was seething with anger and concealing it poorly.

He could see why. Even in faded jeans, a loosely hanging t-shirt, and with her ponytail half falling out, the woman who now stood facing Hwoarang was easy on the eyes. Hers, however, was more natural than Hyun-Ok's heavily painted look.

"In less than 10 minutes that woman has caught more of Hwoarang's attention than you have the whole time he's known you," Scar said demurely, adding salt to the wound.

Hyun-Ok hissed through her teeth, glaring at Scar for a moment before turning her hatred back to the stranger. She watched as the strange woman and Hwoarang stood facing each other, neither of them moving.

_'Not bad...'_ Hwoarang thought, carefully observing his opponent. The gang snickered when they saw their leader checking out the woman. And he was, but it was more of an analytical appraisal than a sexual one.

Judging by the strength of her attacks, she had a muscular body, although the baggy clothing made it hard to tell. The exposed skin of her arms and face indicated she had the light tan, which probably meant outside work or training. Her brown hair was pulled back into a practical ponytail, the stray strands tucked behind her ears. Light aqua eyes appraised him just as he had appraised her.

Both fighters bowed slightly, keeping their eyes locked on one another. And then they stood, bodies tense but unmoving. They studied each other, neither wanting to initiate and expose a weak spot.

Feeling those behind him shifting restlessly in anticipation, Hwoarang moved in first, sending a practice kick towards her head. She dodged it easily.

Becoming more aggressive, he increased the force and speed of his kicks. The woman still dodged him, blocking with her forearms if necessary. Still, he knew he was slowly wearing her down.

It took him by surprise when he had to block. In the moment it had taken him to think, the woman had found enough time to launch an attack of her own.

The combination of strength, speed, and finesse with which she struck was a pleasant surprise to Hwoarang. It was all he could do to shield himself.

_'She's good,'_ he thought, avoiding another kick to the head. _'But not good enough.'_

With a deft movement he caught her leg, but instead of breaking it and crippling her, he just flipped her onto her back, the impact making her body shudder. Hwoarang moved away to let her get up, watching as she sat up, shaking her head like a stunned animal.

Her once restrained hair now hung free, partially obscuring her face. With a sweep of one arm she threw it back and into a partial twist to clear her vision.

Hwoarang braced himself when he saw her come at him again, but noticed there was something wrong with the way she approached him.

_'She's leaning slightly,'_ he noticed, a second before the barrage of punches made contact. 'And her attacks aren't as forceful as they were.'

He could see she knew there was something wrong with her body, it was in her eyes. She had the expression of someone who knew they were losing but refused to give up. For some reason this irritated him, and with a slight dodge, he grabbed her arms and tripped her, laying her on the ground with her wrists pinned above her head.

She struggled, letting out a string of English cuss words.

_'I do know English you stupid woman,'_ he thought, putting pressure across her legs to stop her kicking with one of his own legs.

She stopped fighting with a gasp of pain, glaring up at him, the determination to win still burning clear in her eyes. He had found the reason for her diminished fighting power. One of her legs had been injured when he had flipped her.

Something inside his memory clicked as he stared into her blazing eyes, her breathing ragged from either exertion or anger at being laid low. Hwoarang remembered what Master Baek had said when he was training...

_"Never disrespect an opponent that has the fire, Hwoarang. The opponent you have laid low, that still looks at you with the will to fight, and does not beg for mercy. That is a fire that you have. When you meet one of these opponents, put yourself in their shoes. Treat them as you would want to be treated. Do not gloat and rub defeat in their face, as the victorious are prone to do. But as a honorable fighter, give them the respect they deserve as a worthy challenger. You must understand this to fully master Tae Kwon Do..."_

"Master Baek..." Hwoarang whispered, receiving a confused look from the woman still trapped beneath him.

Releasing her wrists, he moved his hands to hers, sliding his fingers into her clenched fists to help her stand. Pulling her up, he set her on her feet gently. She looked at him warily, her body still tensely defensive.

"You don't have to worry," he said in Korean, figuring he'd keep his English abilities to himself. "That wasn't too bad of a fight."

At this he gave the slightest of bows. The woman looked at him in shock, bowing to him as well, no deeper than he had bowed to her.

She wasn't the only one to be shocked. Hwoarang's gang stood in the background gaping, including those who had woken from their unconscious states.

Even Scar's mouth hung open. Hwoarang had never bowed to anyone except his Master Baek. Looking at Hyun-Ok, he saw her literally shaking with rage. He could not resist the temptation of taunting her that this scenario brought.

"Rather intimate position they were in... Hey!"

He had not expected her to strike so viciously. Holding his bleeding cheek, Scar watched as the infuriated woman stormed back to the rest of the gang, her heels making angry clicking sounds against the pavement.

"Well, she took that better than expected..." he murmured, taking his hand from his face and looking at the red stains on his fingers.

One man heard him and turned to look in time to see the livid scratcher turn the corner. He turned to grin at Scar, knowing the cause of the slashes across his face. Hyun-Ok would attack if cornered. Or if someone pissed her off.

Scar shrugged, turning his attention back to Hwoarang and the woman._ 'Now what is he doing?'_

Hwoarang had taken the woman's arm, despite her protests that she was able to walk, and was leading her to the bench she had been sitting on before they showed up. A silent signal told the gang to stay back.

"I can walk by myself, you know. I'm not a child. You don't need to hold my hand."

Hwoarang rolled his eyes, supporting the stubborn creature until she reached the bench to sit.

He smirked when she grumbled a 'thank you' and picked up her book.

"You really should get someone to look at that. Don't want to become crippled do ya?"

She glared up at him before opening the book and hiding behind it, mumbling something.

"What's that?" Hwoarang said, leaning down towards her.

The only reply she gave was moving the book closer to her face. Irritated, Hwoarang grabbed the hefty piece of literature from her, holding it at arms length. The woman seemed to forget she was injured and lunged for the book, whimpering at the sudden pain that shot through her body at the sudden movement. Hwoarang had to catch her with one arm, still keeping his prize from her grasping fingers as he set her back on the bench.

"Give it back!"

"Not until you tell me what you said."

"Honestly! You're like a little five year old!"

Shaking his head at her, the redhead opened the book and started to read. It was marked at the beginning of a chapter titled 'Shamanism'. Intrigued, he looked at the cover. In flourishing script it was titled 'Ancient Korean Medicines and Practices'.

"Why are you reading this? You sick?"

"No. Would you please give me my book?"

"Not until you tell me what..."

"FINE!" she cut him off. "I said I can't afford going to a hospital! Now would you please give it back!?"

He handed it to her silently, wondering why she could not afford a doctor. When she stood up he didn't try to stop her.

_'Something is definitely wrong with her right leg,' _he concluded, watching the way she kept all her weight on her left leg. She limped when she started to walk away from him and toward the gang, the way out of where they now stood.

A sudden impulse made him walk up and scoop her into his arms.

She jumped instinctively. "What are you doing?!"

"Taking you to a hospital, stupid."

"You're not one to talk about intelligence! I bet you didn't even make it through high school!"

He snorted, smirking at the juvenile retort and continued to carry her out of the alley despite the beating she was giving his chest with her fists.

"I'm taking the wild animal to the vet," he informed Scar jokingly, receiving an especially harder hit than the others had been.

"I am _not_ a wild animal! Now let me go you cocky bastard! I'm sick of your games! _Let me go!_"

Hwoarang sighed in mock exasperation, "I think I'm going to have to return her to the pet shop. There's just no telling if the animals you get nowadays have rabies or not... Ow! Son of a bitch!"

The woman had bitten him on the neck, hard enough to leave marks but not bleed.

"I'll show you rabies, you insolent bastard! Stupid fucking manwhore!..." she trailed off, starting to use English curses instead. Hwoarang laughed inside, understanding every word she said.

"Got quite a mouth on her, huh?" Scar commented, taking an immediate liking to the fiery woman in his leaders arms. "Kind of like a nicer Hyun-Ok, isn't she?."

"Don't even joke about that," Hwoarang growled.

"Lighten up, I was just joking..."

"Hwoarang?" the woman spluttered, putting a halt on her stream of curses. "Your name is Hwoarang? 'Flowering manhood'..." She burst out laughing.

Glaring at her, he gave her right leg a tight squeeze, only mildly regretting his action when she stopped laughing with a yelp of pain.

"No need to get all defensive," she grumbled, settling down.

"Decided to cooperate?" Hwoarang asked, shifting her weight gently so his arm was in a more comfortable position under her knees. "And speaking of names, what's yours? I don't plan on calling you 'the woman'."

"No. I still plan to make your life a living hell as long as you impose it on me, but there's really nothing I can do right now. I'm not in the best position to be making demands now am I? And why is my name important to you?"

Scar laughed. "She's got you there."

"It's _not_ important. I was just curious."

The woman sighed, rolling her eyes, "My names Faith. Although why we need introductions when you're just going to drop me off is beyond me."

"Whatever," Hwoarang muttered. "You should just be glad theres a hospital nearby, woman, or else you'd be in for a bumpy ride."

It was her turn to snort as she looked past his shoulder to see the rest of the gang following at a distance.

"This must be one of those street gangs... Are you the leader? Are you hustlers?" Faith asked, looking intently at Scar, the older of the two men. "And what's your name?"

"You can call me Scar. And yeah, we fight for money, though hustler is such a harsh word. I am not the leader, the man carrying you is. If you find Hwoarang to be to hilarious a name, you can call him Blood Talon. That's what he's known as on the streets."

Faith looked at the man carrying her with new respect.

"Hmm... I can tell why. Such a lovely dye job."

Hwoarang looked down to glare at her, but couldn't help but inwardly smile when he saw the impish look in her eyes.

"You look like you born with your head in the sand, so we're even... And we're here at the hospital."


	3. A Doctor's Visit and TakeOut

_Update, 12/18/08: Name changes for minor OCs. See Chapter 2's Author Note._

_Update, 6/19/08: More grammar tweaking and typo hunting. _

_Warning: Adult situations. Kinda like in the movies. Ha._

_Disclaimer: The Tekken characters are not mine! Which means Hwoarang does not belong to me.

* * *

_A Doctor's Visit and Take-Out

* * *

"You're kidding, right?"

Faith looked up at the so called 'hospital' with incredulity. "It's just an apartment complex. This isn't a hospital. Is this your guys idea of a joke? Because if it is, you both completely fail at humor."

Hwoarang laughed softly and walked into the building with his cargo, leaving Scar and the others to wait outside. "Looks can be deceiving. Who would have thought a woman sitting so forlornly in an alley reading a book could actually put up a fight?"

"You think I fight well?"

"Don't let it go to your head. I can still kick your ass, woman."

"It's not right to hit a lady. And why do you keep calling me 'woman'?! I told you my name so why don't you use it?"

Hwoarang rolled his eyes as he started to climb the stairs, taking them two by two with a slight spring. Faith bounced with each jog-like step upward, her teeth grinding in an effort to refrain from retaliating against her semi-captor.

Agitated, she bit out, "Why aren't we taking the elevator? And why did you roll your eyes when I mentioned not hitting ladies? What? You think I'm not a lady?"

"Full of questions aren't you? If you really want to know why we're not going on the elevator, take it yourself. You should get stuck somewhere between the 3rd and 4th floors. And no lady can curse so nastily for so long. So no, I don't think you are, although I'm sure some bums might find you to be quite refined."

"That's real funny, flame head. Real funny. How would I get out? You'd probably ditch me and go have a good laugh with your friends. But I guess you are right about me not being a lady..."

This admission made the thug halt mid-step up the stairs.

"I'm right? Did you just say I was right?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Faith shook her head and refused to say anything else. They continued up to the third floor in silence, neither of them knowing what else to say to a complete stranger. Hwoarang stopped in front of a grimy looking door, the numbers having fallen off long ago, any traces of their existence covered in dirt or peeling paint, and rapped on it with his knuckles.

"There's no way in hell I'm going to go in there for medical help," Faith said, squirming to be let down.

Complying silently, Hwoarang lowered her legs to the floor, allowing the injured woman time to catch her balance before letting go entirely. At the same moment she reached out to lean on the wall for support, Faith saw a large gray rat race across the floor past their feet.

"Nevermind. Pick me up! Pick me up!"

"You wanted down."

"I know that! But you didn't tell me there were going to be Godzilla rats!"

Before the budding argument could progress any further, the door rattled and opened a crack. An elder man's voice issued from the crack, matching the twinkling eye that stared out at them, "Who is it?".

"It's Hwoarang, Gramps. I've got someone here who needs some medical attention. And I think you'll like her," Hwoarang added with a wink.

"Hwoarang! Come in, boy! Come in! Why didn't you say it was you at the door? I would have let you in immediately!"

The crack in the door closed and metal clinking could be heard. This time the door opened wide, revealing an ancient man, dressed in a clean white shirt and looking like a human raisin.

"Oh.... Hwoarang.... Who is your lovely lady friend?" the old man asked, a gleam in his eye.

"Her? She's just someone I picked up off the street...."

Faith hit him with a half-balled fist, glaring daggers.

"What? You are."

"That doesn't mean you have to make me sound like a hooker!"

The aged man chuckled at the two younger people in his doorway, still eyeing Faith with interest.

"Come in, you two. Now, what seems to be the..... problem." He trailed off, watching the woman in front of him limp painfully into his home, too stubborn to ask Hwoarang for help after the thug's previous comment.

"I think there's something wrong with her right leg, Gramps," Hwoarang whispered on his way past the old man.

Faith stood in amazement at the room she was in. It was nothing like what the deteriorating outside indicated it would look like. Instead, it was impeccably clean and well organized, just like a real doctor's office.

"This is where we come when we need a doctor. Gramps gets paid well and we don't have to mess with the hospital and all their useless charges," Hwoarang explained, seeing the look on Faith's face.

"Exactly right. And boy is business good," Gramps interrupted, "More often than not its broken bones or knife wounds. But that's beside the point. I have a side room I can examine you in, missy. So if you'll follow me..."

Faith looked uncertainly at Hwoarang, who just smiled mischievously at her. She didn't trust that look the old man had gotten when he said 'examine you', and she certainly didn't trust the expression of the younger man. Looking at Hwoarang suspiciously she followed the old doctor, using the wall for support.

Hwoarang went to sit down in one of the chairs, relaxing while he waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, within 5 minutes he could hear shouting from the small side room he had been to many times. He stood when he heard a door open and tried not to laugh as Faith came storming out, looking comical as she hobbled angrily towards the door.

"You lecherous old man! Pervert! How dare you! I am not going to undress and put that hospital... thing!... on, just for a examination of my leg! You shouldn't be in the medical profession! You crazy old coot!..." Yet again she trailed into using English curses, each one worse than the last.

"Quite a mouth for such a young lady...." the old man whispered to Hwoarang, sounding mildly impressed.

"Yeah. But she's no delicate flower," Hwoarang replied, walking quickly to stop the agitated woman from leaving. "You don't have to undress completely, woman. Gramps is an old man and needs every chance to see a female body before he dies. He's a horny old bastard, but can you blame him? Probably can't get it up much anymore, so you gotta give him a break."

It was all Faith could do not to burst out laughing. The contradiction between his matter of fact tone and laughing eyes gave Hwoarang away. Shaking her head at him, Faith turned away from the door and limped back toward the side room, glaring at the elderly doctor on her way.

"You try anything funny and I'll...."

"I am a professional young lady. Despite the location of my practice, I am a qualified medical practitioner. My previous comment was merely a joke. One you took a bit too personal, I might add. Now, since you almost destroyed my side room, you'll just have to be examined here. Take off your pants and go sit in one of the chairs."

"Excuse me?" Faith scoffed, looking at the doctor as if he had grown another head. "I'm not going to strip in your...." she gestured helplessly, "....living room! Especially not with him in here!" This time she jabbed an outraged finger in Hwoarang's direction. He simply stood leaning against the threshold, a small smirk on his face.

"Either strip or get out! I have no time for games, young lady!" The doctor said, puffing up more than he already was from preaching about her rudeness.

Biting her lip in frustration, Faith changed the direction of her steps towards a nearby chair. Her leg really was throbbing like a bitch and she couldn't afford an actual hospital.

"You two get some kind of sick pleasure from this don't you?" she asked, sitting down on the soft seat. "At least it's cushioned..." With a sigh she undid the button to her jeans and paused. "You don't have to watch! This is embarrassing enough to do without an audience!"

Both men turned around, exchanging knowing glances. Women could be so sensitive about undressing. They waited, listening to the soft rustle of denim behind them. Hearing a resigned sigh, they turned around in time to see Faith lowering herself to the chair.

"Oh my, child....." Gramps gasped, seeing the angry bruise that covered the outside of her right thigh and hip.

Hwoarang winced inwardly, feeling a twinge of guilt at knowing he was the cause of her injury. At the same time though, he felt a weird sort of pride in seeing evidence of his own strength.

_'Looks like it wasn't just her back she landed on....' _he thought, the guilt twinge blossoming and muffling the pride.

"Well, I hope it just looks worse than it really is," the doctor commented, shuffling over to Faith and bending down slowly to prod at the purplish-blue mark. "This really does look awful.... Stand up child, lets see how you walk."

"As long as you quit poking me, geezer. Bruise prodding is not the most pleasant feeling..."

Gramps chuckled, helping her along and noting what seemed to pain her the most, commenting, "No. The most pleasant feeling is with a lover and..."

"Whoa there, Gramps! No need to go into detail!" Hwoarang said, wincing at the thought of the old man ever getting it on. "Please, do _not_ go into detail. And besides, I'm sure Faith has her own feelings on that subject without your help. I know I do, so don't ruin them with your stories."

Instead of the insult he expected, Faith just laughed softly as the doctor led her back to the chair and said, "I've never had much time in my life for sex, much less love."

Sensing his sharp-tongued young friend would make a biting remark about the validity of his current patients statement, Gramps quickly said, "There's a lot of bruising and I believe you sprained something when you tried to walk by yourself. From the looks of it your femur is also bruised, and bruises on the bone can be extremely painful. I'd recommend resting for a couple of months and giving it time to heal."

"Months?! I can't rest for a couple of months."

"What do you mean?"

This time it was Hwoarang who spoke up, hearing the slight bitterness hidden under Faith's distant tone as she pulled her jeans back on carefully.

"Why do you think I was sitting in a dirty alley reading by myself? I don't have a home to heal in here in Korea, and the belongings I did have were stolen yesterday. But I'm sure you don't want to hear my sob story, so I'll thank you and be on my way."

She stood, preparing to leave, when a hand on her shoulder pushed her back down to the chair. Looking up, she came face to face with Hwoarang, who had leaned in close. She noticed he had the tiniest of yellow flecks in his almond eyes.

"The doctor said you need to rest. So you're gonna rest. What Gramps says, goes."

Faith was startled by his suddenly aggressive manner, although she hid it well. He had been completely at ease until she had said that.

Deciding to take the defensive, she snapped back, "What do you care? I'm just someone you picked up off the street."

"Don't make this difficult, woman. Gramps says you need to rest and you're gonna rest. Even if I have to tie you up in my apartment to keep you from leaving. So are you going to come willingly or am I gonna have to bring out the rope?"

"I'd like to see you try! You couldn't keep me down by simply tying me up in your apartment! Now I'm going to leave and you can't stop me!... Let me go, damnit! Put me down! This isn't funny!"

Gramps watched in amusement as Hwoarang slung the irate woman over his right shoulder and headed for the door. He laughed as he watched the captive woman reach her hands down her tormentors back and grab the elastic band to his boxers, yanking up hard.

"Damnit, woman! That fucking hurt! Knock it off!"

"Not until you let me go!" Faith said, still pulling up on his underwear.

Reaching up with his free hand, Hwoarang slapped her butt and laughed. "If you want to play that game, I'll play too."

He continued to spank her until she released his boxers.

"Fine.... But _LET ME GO_!" Faith yelled, starting to pound on his back with her fists instead. "I hate you, you know that?! Let me go you cocky bastard!"

Stepping in, Gramps said, "Careful now. Don't aggravate that leg too much, or it'll only get worse. Here, Hwoarang, let me help you...." With one quick motion the doctor grabbed the seat of Hwoarang's jeans and pulled down with enough force to fix the wedgie problem.

"There you are! Now you two are good to go, so get out of my home!" the old man told them good-naturedly.

"See ya, Gramps," Hwoarang bid the man farewell as the door closed behind them. "Now are you going to cooperate, woman?"

"Hell no! Let me down!" she said, starting to struggle again. "Ugh. I think all the blood's rushing to my head..." she added, pushing against his back to lever herself up.

"This should help..." Hwoarang smirked, starting to jump down the stairs.

Faith flopped back down, jarred from her slightly upright position. She closed her eyes, pressing her face against his back and waiting to plummet down the stairs when he tripped. It was then that she noticed they were no longer bouncing down the stairs, and that Hwoarang was opening the door leading outside to his gang.

"Now will you let me go?" she asked starting to fight against the strong arm that pinned her to him.

"No. You're my new trophy," he said, receiving the expected reaction.

"_I AM NOT YOUR TROPHY! LET ME GO, YOU FILTHY BASTARD!_"

She started to pound on his back again, the gang watching in not-so-silent amusement as their leader walked past them in the direction of his apartment. His set course meant passing the rest of the gang with the woman screaming English curses. People on the street were already giving them weird looks; men carrying screaming foreign women weren't seen everyday.

"Would you shut up? Everyone's staring at us."

"Let them stare! I'll quit screaming when you put me down, you dirty bastard!"

Hwoarang sighed, trying to close out the screeching and walking faster. By the time he reached the alley where the bikes were kept, the rest of the gang had come out to see what was going on. He nodded at them, continuing on towards his apartment. When he made eye contact with Hyun-Ok, he smiled at her, and tried not to laugh at the look of sheer loathing she was giving his reluctant passenger. Her fury increased when he mouthed the words 'keep the money' and kept walking.

Once again, Scar stood to the side, observing everything.

_'He's not improving her mood,'_ he thought, looking at a practically steaming Hyun-Ok. _'And he's not making it any easier on Faith. But that woman can hold her own in a fight. Hyun shouldn't be too much of a problem.'_

Cautious thoughts were pushed aside as the second-in-command couldn't resist a smile as he watched an indignant Faith sigh, tired of screaming, and hold her chin in her hands, elbows resting against Hwoarang's back and bouncing with every step he took. The smirk Hwoarang had on his face from the relief of no screaming in his ear was equally amusing.

_'Those two are something else...'_ He watched as they got farther away from the gang, leaving many of them confused as to why he had a strange woman slung over his shoulder.

* * *

Hwoarang was relieved to finally reach his apartment, reaching into his pocket for the key.

"This is where you live?"

He raised an eyebrow at the tone of her voice. It was neither appraising nor condescending. It was simply a mild question, a drastic change from the accusing interrogations she'd already pointed his way. And her speaking voice was pleasant when devoid of screeching or cynicism.

Shrugging, he opened the door and stepped into his small living room. It was a relief to be out of the public for awhile. He went to his slightly tattered couch and gently set his cargo down on one end, surprising both her and himself. He sat on the other end and they sat there in silence, neither of them knowing what to say. She definitely wasn't the first woman he'd brought back to his place, but he'd never been in a situation where the interaction was required to be more conversational than physical.

The red head decided to observe her instead of speaking, and watched as she looked around the room. It surprised him that she didn't demand to leave in disgust after seeing his bachelor pad. Instead, her assessment of her surroundings seemed more curious than judgmental. Her sudden switch to mildness was an almost scary change from the spitfire of only moments before.

Sensing watching eyes, Faith used her peripheral vision and saw Hwoarang watching her with what seemed to be both amusement and curiosity. She turned to face him fully, carefully shifting her leg.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Hwoarang just smirked again, looking at the full length of her stretched out from his couch, weight carefully settled on her left hip.

_'I wonder if what she said is the truth. That she had never had enough time in her life for....' _He shook his head. _'It's impossible that a woman like her is a virgin. There's no way in hell.'_

But he reconsidered when he saw her shift uncomfortably under his roving gaze, which had wandered lower than her face.

_'Maybe...' _

It was odd for him to see any woman not feel appreciated by his attention. He was used to being chased after and flirted with, especially when it was Hyun-Ok doing the chasing. The woman craved attention, which he wasn't always willing to give.

This woman was different, though. Instead of feeling proud he was watching her, she was uncomfortable and embarrassed by his probing look. Her innocent reaction to him clashed with the sharp tongue and confidence he knew was there.

Turning to stare at the television against the wall opposite of them, he clicked it on and tried to focus on the slightly fuzzy picture. Sinking down deeper into the couch in a lazy sprawl, he could feel her eyes on his skin as she still watched him, waiting for a reply. The intensity of her gazed raised goosebumps along his neck.

"Would you please stop," he growled, still staring at the television.

"Oh... Sorry..." Faith turned away, slightly embarrassed to be caught staring.

She was about to apologize, unsure of what else to say, when Hwoarang spoke up first.

"Are you hungry? Don't look at me like that. It was just a question."

Faith had turned back quickly, a surprised look on her face.

"You're going to feed me? It would be easier on you if you just let me leave. I don't want to impose and you have no obligation to me."

"I just asked if you were hungry, I never said I'd get you something to eat." He watched her confusion with amusement for a moment before continuing. "I'll take that as a 'yes' anyway. And I am obligated, since I injured you and you have no place to go. Can't be leaving you on my streets to make trouble now, can I?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but he stood up and walked to the phone, turning his back on her. Shaking her head, she stretched out on the couch and rested her head on the arm. Feeling very tired from the stress of the day, she closed her eyes, planning on resting for a short while. The last thing she registered before drifting to sleep was the thought that she was going to sleep in a complete strangers house, on a complete strangers couch, with no one back home to worry about her except a fragile little girl.

"Yeah, that's all. Thanks."

Hwoarang pressed the off button on the phone and set it on the stand, turning to tell the foulmouth that she was going to get to eat. He closed his mouth, the words dying before they formed as he saw her already dead to the world. Lips parted and breathing slow, she twitched occasionally in her sleep, reminding him of a sleeping cat. Shaking his head, he went to the bedroom and took the blanket from his bed, returning to where she slept and covering her with it.

_'She sure can fall asleep quickly,'_ he thought. _'I was only on the phone for two minutes. I'll let her sleep until the food gets here, and then I'm waking her ass up... She doesn't look so strong when she sleeps...'_

His thoughts trailed off as he sat in a chair facing the couch, with nothing better to do than watch his resting 'guest'. He'd seen many women sleep, and it had never really interested him. Sleeping was sleeping. There was nothing else to it. Added to the fact that he never really cared to look at the women he spent the night with after he'd had his fun, Hwoarang hadn't really cared enough to observe that particular state of rest. With nothing else to do but wait for food and watch crappy cable though, he didn't have quality alternatives.

_'She's too trusting. I could be doing anything to her right now, and all because she relaxed her defenses. Stupid woman.'_

He shook his head, running his fingers through the short red strands of hair that were just beginning to fall across his forehead, thinking.

_'The food won't be here for awhile. I should find something to do. It's still pretty early...' _Turning to look up at the clock above the television he saw that it was 3:32 pm. _'How did it get so late? Guess I should figure out what I'm going to do with her. She won't sleep in the bed with me, no question about that, so she can just sleep on the couch. She also said she didn't have any belongings, so that's not a problem. That was simple enough. Now it's just a matter of making sure she doesn't creep off into the streets...'_

The thought of the feisty woman defenseless on the streets bothered him. It had been how he had seen her before the fight, quietly reading and obviously a foreigner, that made her seem defenseless, when she really wasn't. Now that she was injured it wouldn't be a facade, and she would be an easy target for the less than friendly street-dwellers.

With that thought he got up and started to give the house a minimal cleaning, piling up the dishes in the sink, shoving everything to one side, and piling the clothes into one big heap. By the time he was done, there was a knock on the door.

_'About fucking time,' _he thought, looking at the clock again._ 'Four twelve? This meal should be free...'_

Opening the door, Hwoarang saw a nervous looking teenage boy standing there and fidgeting. The boy jumped a bit when he opened the door and stuttered out an apology.

"S-Sorry for the d-delay. W-We've b-been really b-busy lately..."

"It's alright right kid. You don't have to get all nervous. Here's your money."

The boy looked relieved as he took the money and handed Hwoarang the food.

"Thank you, sir. Have a nice day," he said, all traces of nervousness gone as he rushed off to get to his next delivery.

Shaking his head and closing the door, Hwoarang set the take-out boxes on the kitchen table, smirking as he thought of ways to wake the sleeping woman on his couch. Thinking back on the ideas, he decided against all of them. A hit to the groin wasn't worth the pleasure of seeing her jump.

"Wake up, woman. The food's here."

Shaking her by the shoulder, the only response he got for his efforts was a mumbled go away and she rolled over, turning her back to him.

"You asked for it, woman....."

Ripping the blanket away, he began to tickle her ribs mercilessly. With a sleepy cry of surprise she tried to twist away, aimlessly trying to slap him away.

"Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty! Your Prince has come to wake you!"

"You better not kiss me you sick fucker! Aaah! Quit tickling me! I'm up, I'm up!"

Instead of stopping as she requested, Hwoarang pressed even harder between her ribs, eliciting squeals of either laughter or rage, he couldn't tell which at the pitch it was in, from his half-awake guest.

His hand was suddenly knocked out from under him with an on-target sweep of her arm, sending him sprawling across her chest. The movement placed his nose almost touching hers.

Both froze immediately. Hwoarang could see a near panic in her eyes.

He thought again about what she had said in the doctor's home, and realized she was telling the truth. One look in her widened eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Awake now?" he asked, pushing himself up and reinstating their personal bubble space.

"Yeah...." She rubbed at her thigh. The frenzy of his sudden attack had made her leg start hurting again, and their close encounter left her feeling off balance. Standing up, she limped her way the short distance from the couch to the kitchen and was surprised to see Hwoarang had pulled out a chair for her, so she wouldn't have to.

Through a mouthful of burger the redhead said, "I got American food. Didn't know if you liked Korean food or not, so I got some food from your 'homeland'. The old standby, burger and fries. Although the one's in the U.S. are a lot greasier..."

"You've been to the U.S.?.... And how the hell did you know I was American?" Faith asked, adjusting herself in the seat and nibbling at a fry.

"Your accent, and yeah, a few times. The Tekken tournament goes everywhere you know. You get to travel around the world if you participate. Those Mishima bastards can afford it though..... What's the matter? You gonna eat or what?"

He looked at her untouched burger and barely touched fries before looking at her. She was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry. I was too preoccupied watching the half chewed cow rolling around your mouth. You have terrible table manners."

So saying, she bit into her burger, and looked at him, chewing with her mouth closed and still shaking her head.

"Well excuse me, Miss High and Mighty. Not everyone has had a prissy upbringing."

"I know. I wonder what that's like anyway. Having a proper family... Be kinda strange...."

They both went quiet, Faith wondering why she would be so honest within a few hours of knowing him, and Hwoarang thinking about his own childhood. They ate in silence until both were done. Hwoarang wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, wiping that on the leg of his jeans, while Faith watched with a slightly disgusted face and used her napkin.

"I wouldn't have minded Korean food."

Hwoarang shrugged. "I didn't know so I thought it would be okay to just order burgers. No one hates burgers..... I'm going back to the living room. These chairs hurt my ass."

He offered a hand to help her up, wiping them on his pants when he saw the look she gave him. Faith took it, trying to suppress a smile at his sudden 'gentlemanly' behavior. He helped her to the couch before settling himself across from her, turning the chair so they were facing one another.

They talked for a few hours about nothing important, most of it awkward silence and half attempted topic starters. Hwoarang did most of the talking, as Faith seemed more content to just listen and he hated those weird silences. He told her about his gang and it's members, about his bike, and about what it was like living on the streets of Seoul. She listened carefully, soaking in all the information and watching him as he talked. He seemed so alive when he talked about his life. He obviously enjoyed it.

"So... What's your story?" He regretted asking the question, because the moment the words left his mouth, she seemed to close up.

"Nothing special. It's not an interesting story so I won't tell it." She shrugged and stared off into space, ending the subject.

"Alright. I'm not forcing you to tell me. Relax." He looked at the clock. "Shit. It's already 8:00 and I'm late for the clubs. Make yourself at home, if you haven't already," he added with more than a hint of sarcasm, seeing as how she had already claimed the couch as hers. "I'll be back around 2:00, okay?

"Alright. Whatever."

He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, taking one last look behind him at the back of the couch before he left. "You'd better be here when I get back."

"I will, don't worry about it. I've been fed here, so I'll keep coming back whether you like it or not."

He smirked as he closed the door behind him.

* * *

_I know, lame ending for the chapter. So sue me..... -_-; At least it flows better now._

_Anyways, please Read& Review! ^^; And thank you so much to those who have reviewed! =D_


	4. Not Feeling Well

_Update, 12/18/08: Name changes for minor OCs. See Chapter 2's Author Note. _

_Update, 6/19/08: Fixed the ungodly number of typos hiding in here. I cringed while rereading it._

_Disclaimer: Namco owns all the Tekken characters... Even the wonderful Hwoarang...

* * *

_Not Feeling Well

* * *

"This place is filthy..." Faith muttered, looking around her at the disastrous appearance of the apartment. "He said to make myself at home... May as well see where everything is."

Setting her feet on the ground, she gingerly stood up and limped towards the two doors on the far side of the room, investigating what she hadn't seen yet.

"That's a bathroom... A very dirty bathroom..." she said to herself, looking into the first door that happened to be slightly open.

Making a quarter turn, she was confronted by another door, this one completely closed. Opening it slightly, the first thing she saw was an unmade bed in the corner.

_'A bedroom... I know I shouldn't go in...'_

Fighting down the urge to snoop around her host's room, she closed the door. Not knowing what else to do, she went to the kitchen and sat down in the seat she had occupied earlier. There were still fries left in the take-out boxes, which hadn't been moved to the garbage. Suddenly hungry again, Faith opened one and picked up a limp fry, bringing it to her mouth hesitantly. She almost gagged when she put it in her mouth and chewed.

"Ugh... chewy potatoes..."

Pushing the box away from her in disgust, she looked around the small kitchen. Dishes were stacked haphazardly in the sink, and the counters looked as though they hadn't been washed since they were installed.

_'Definitely a bachelor...'_

With a sigh of boredom she stood up again, slowly making her way to the loaded sink.

_'Might as well do something productive. Although some of these might take a few hours to wash,' _she thought, holding up a plate encrusted in what seemed to be pizza cheese and wrinkling her nose. _'Let's just hope he has dish soap and a sponge... Not likely though.'_

To her surprise, when she checked the cabinet beneath the sink, both sat directly in front of her, unopened and still in plastic wrap.

_'At least he has something, even if it's not used.'_

Taking out the untouched bottles, she began to empty the sink, preparing to fill it. Armed with the hot water and extra strength cleaner, she set to work, scouring away until everything except the floor looked safe to be a part of a kitchen.

By the time she was finished, her thigh had started to throb so bad it brought tears to her eyes.

_'I guess that's all I can do for now...' _she mused tiredly, dragging herself along the wall back to the couch.

She collapsed onto slightly flattened cushions in relief, adjusting her aching appendage carefully before pulling the blanket up to her chest. Half-asleep by the time her head was lowered, she looked up towards the clock, and was amazed to see both hands on the 12.

"Time flies when your cleaning house..." she murmured to herself, closing her eyes and falling into a blank sleep.

* * *

A scratching at the door roused Faith from her peaceful, dead to the world, slumber. Disoriented, she sat up and frantically searched her surroundings until a lance of pain from her aggravated hip brought her crashing back to reality.

One quick glance at the clock revealed it was 3:30. The lock in the door unlatched with a click, and a gush of cold air rushed in, blowing stray wisps of hair from her face when she turned. Just as suddenly it closed. The figure who had opened the door stumbled towards her.

"Hwoarang?"

"Yeah... Sorry I'm late..."

Faith narrowed her eyes. His speech was slurred and he couldn't walk straight from what she could see of the stumbling silhouette.

A plastic package hit her in the face before she could think anymore. Shaking her head, she glared at at the drunken man. He had begun laughing so hard he lost his already unstable balance, falling to the floor and continuing to chuckle stupidly with his face in the carpet.

"Underwear?" She asked, inspecting the bundle in her hands. "And... How the hell did you know my size?"

She jumped when he spoke from right above her, leaning over the back of the couch. He had moved so quickly from being face-down on the floor to over her makeshift bed it was startling.

"I've seen plenty of women's panties. I just know." He paused with a crookedly cocky smirk. "And I thought you might need some clean ones for tomorrow. You women are so picky about that. It's not like you're pissing in 'em, so why do they need daily changing?"

"You're disgusting, you know that? I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. I'm just going to pretend you didn't say anything and go to bed. Goodnight."

Dropping the pack of panties on the floor, she lay back down and closed her eyes, refusing to speak to him any more than was necessary while he was drunk.

"Thanks though."

She heard him snicker before a weight slammed into her, the left side of her body taking most the impact. A quick prayer of thanks raced through her head that her right side was on the outer edge of the couch, because Hwoarang had rolled over the back of the furniture and landed on top of her.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

"I'm goin' to sleep too..." he muttered, pulling himself up to settle his head beneath her collarbone. "You're a great pillow..."

Her whole body stiff with shock, Faith didn't know how to react. She was tempted to simply roll over and dump him off, but she would hurt herself in the process. His soft snores reached her ears, and any thought of waking him, purposely or not left, fled her mind when she looked down at him.

He was already fast asleep, his head resting on her chest, rising and falling with each breath she took. Without the defensive look he always wore, he seemed almost... gentle.

_'Snap out of it, Faith! What are you thinking?! He's a complete stranger! A street thug, not a 'gentle' person! Everyone looks like that when they sleep! Just smell him! That tells you everything you need to know about his lifestyle!' _Her inner voice of propriety chastised, high up on a soapbox.

She didn't have to try to sniff him to catch the scent. He reeked of alcohol. Even with his breath blowing away from her, the fumes were strong enough to be choking.

Closing her eyes, she tried to ignore the intimacy of his closeness and the overpowering smell of booze. But he was so thoroughly spread over her, it was like trying to ignore a person with their clothing set aflame. She shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position, but he tightened his grip around her waist, anchoring her beneath him.

With a resigned sigh she relaxed, accepting the fact she wouldn't be moving much, if at all, for the rest of the night. The last thought to cross her mind was that the kitchen light was still on, and was the only reason she'd been able to see that it was Hwoarang who had entered the apartment and not some stranger. Well, some _other _stranger.

* * *

Hwoarang could feel the pounding in his brain before he was even fully conscious. It was steady with his heartbeat, each thump building onto the pain welling inside his head. He could feel his stomach twisting uncomfortably, and the urge to throw up where he lay hit so hard he almost couldn't stop himself.

Without warning his pillow moved, and he could feel it shifting all the down his body. He suddenly realized that the pillow beneath him was generating heat, and had the curves of a woman.

Opening his eyes, his suspicions were confirmed when he saw his head was resting on the chest of someone who was definitely of the female persuasion, even though his vision was unusually bleary.

_'... Oh shit...'_

He groaned, pushing himself up without waking her. Relief coursed through him when he saw they were both fully clothed. The relief didn't last long.

_'Bathroom...'_ was his dominant thought, tasting vomit in the back of his throat.

Staggering across the room, he barely had time to get to the toilet before his stomach emptied itself of everything he'd eaten the previous night.

_'Why the hell? I haven't puked because of drinking since I first started, so why now? It's not like I drank more than I usually do.'_

Mind blanking as his stomach starting seizing again, Hwoarang was surprised when he looked up from the toilet bowl to see Faith sitting on the tub edge, watching him with a worried expression.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah...Why would you think I wasn't?" The sound of his own voice startled him. He didn't sound like himself at all.

"You mean besides the fact that you're violently puking? Your flushed and your whole body is trembling. Should I call the doctor? The one you call 'Gramps'?"

He shook his head, fighting another wave of nausea as he tried to stand. Starting to worry at his inability to control his own body when his legs wouldn't cooperate, he slumped against the wall where he had fallen. The sound of the toilet rinsing away last night's dinner registered in the back of his mind, but the feeling of something wet dabbing at the corners of his mouth wasn't expected

Faith had soaked the corner of her overlarge t-shirt in the sink and started to wipe the flecks of vomit from his lips and chin. She giggled softly when he jumped at her touch, but was sincerely concerned. His eyes looked glassy, and when she touched her wrist to his forehead her suspicions were confirmed.

"You've got a fever, Hwoarang... Hwoarang?"

"Hm?..." He managed to voice before starting to cough.

"You need to get to bed, not fall asleep in the bathroom. I'll help you as much as I can."

She cursed her leg as she pulled his at his arm to get him up.

"Wait... I gotta brush my teeth first..."

Faith stood with him while he brushed the vile taste from his mouth before they both stumbled around the corner to the bedroom. With a grunt, he dropped onto the bed, crawling beneath the disheveled sheets and mumbling a thank you to his new caretaker.

"Are you sure I shouldn't call the doctor?" she asked, pausing at the door.

No response save for a muffled cough.

"I know you can hear me, and if you don't answer I'm going to call the ambulance. How would you like that instead?"

She smiled when she heard him groan into the pillow.

"No doctor, no ambulance. I told you I'm fine... Do you hear me?..."

Turning his head, he saw an empty threshold.

_'Asks me something and doesn't even stick around to hear the answer,' _he grumbled, cursing under his breath and turning his back on the spot where Faith had vanished.

A light weight settled across his body, nearly making him jump out of his skin.

"Don't panic, it's just your blanket."

He turned to glare at Faith, who simply rolled her eyes and sat down next to him. She reached out her arm to rest her wrist against his forehead again, but he tried to bat it away.

"Knock it off. I think you've caught the flu, not to mention having a hangover, and I need to know if you should take a cold bath to help bring it down."

"I told you I'm fine. And why do you care if I'm sick or not? You're acting like I need to be tended to, and you didn't even want to stay here yesterday."

"Need I remind you, you're the one who insisted I stay? And I care because I'm used to looking after someone, so just amuse me, okay?"

"... Fine."

Looking away to give her time to compose herself if necessary, he'd heard more than a touch of sadness when she'd spoken, Hwoarang stared at the wall. He tried to process what she'd said, but his headache had worsened and he couldn't concentrate.

Faith, seeing him spacing out, patted his shoulder, figuring she'd at least find out if he had the flu or something else.

"I need to ask you a few things."

"Hm?"

"Do you feel cold? Even though you have a fever?"

"...Yeah."

"And you have a really bad headache? Although that might be from your hangover..."

"Definitely."

"Do you feel fatigued?"

"Yeah... You sound like a doctor."

"I've spent a lot of time around them in the hospital... But that's not the point. You have all the symptoms of the flu."

"Let's throw a fucking party!" Hwoarang exclaimed irritably.

"I suppose I can forgive you for your dirty fucking mouth since you're sick."

The red head smirked and poked her leg, unable to harass her any more. He turned on his side, facing her, and pulled the blanket up around him to ward off the chills he felt coming and coughed.

"You're such a smartass, woman."

"I know. Oh. Do you have Scar's phone number?"

"Why would you need to know that?"

"I need him to go get some stuff for me."

"Should be in my address book right here on the table..."

"You're not the type of person I'd expect to have an address book..." Faith said, watching him rifle through a collection of small slips of paper he'd grabbed from a small black book.

"Here."

"Thanks... Now get some rest, flame head."

"Don't worry, I will. Goodnight, gimp."

Cuffing his heated cheek gently before leaving, she shut the door behind her and made a slightly staggered beeline for the phone.

_'I hope he doesn't mind me calling...' _she thought, picking it up and dialing.

The sound of voices in the living room filtered through the cracks in the door, stirring Hwoarang from his fevered rest.

He had kicked the blanket off while he was asleep, but even the thin sheets suddenly seemed sweltering. Pushing them off, he lay staring at the ceiling, when it actually dawned on him that there was someone else in his apartment besides Faith. Bolting up, wincing when his headache came back full force, he hurried to the door and flung it open.

Faith and Scar, sitting on the couch talking quietly, looked up when they heard the door fly open.

"Is everything alright? You look upset."

"Yeah, everything is fine," he replied, reaching up to rub the back of his neck and thinking that he must look like an idiot standing there. "Hey, Scar. Are you sure you should be here? The flu's contagious."

"Too late now, I'm already exposed. Really should be going though. I take it you're not going out tonight?"

"Uh, yeah. I'd be in the bar making an idiot of myself. I already have a headache worse than a hangover, why add to it?"

"That's the most intelligent thing he's said all day..."

Hwoarang turned his head to glare at Faith, who happened to be conveniently staring at the ceiling with an innocent expression.

"I'll be leaving now before this escalates. See ya around." Scar said, inwardly chuckling.

_'They definitely won't be bored around each other.'_

Smiling to himself, the older man shut the door behind him, leaving the two to their inevitable 'debate'.

* * *

_I finally finished it! _

_A special sidenote to Librarose (I don't usually do these): I almost fell out of my chair when I saw I'd gotten 4 new reviews! I'm glad you like Faith, she just kinda popped into my head one day. _


	5. Fever Dreams

_Update, 12/18/08: Name changes for minor OCs. See Chapter 2's Author Note. _

_Update, 6/19/08: More typo hunting. Sneaky bastards._

_It's been awhile... This chapter is a bit unorthodox... Okay... It's really weird, but oh well. I thought about changing it, but ended up keeping it how it is. Gives you a look into Hwoarang's mind._

_Disclaimer: Tekken characters are not mine._

* * *

Fever Dreams

* * *

"So why the fuck was he here?"

"My, my, aren't we in a cheery mood?" Faith drawled sarcastically, watching the irritated carrot top trudge toward her and drop bonelessly into the chair.

"You really shouldn't be up, you know. Your face is as red as your hair..."

"Just answer the question. What the hell was Scar doing here?" Hwoarang growled.

"Why? Are you jealous..." Faith began to tease, but trailed off when she saw him rubbing his temples. "He came over to return the laundry and help me clean up. And he went to the store and bought some stuff I asked him to buy."

"Return... the laundry?... Clean up?... Groceries?"

Looking around, he saw that the apartment was now clean, something he had been too distracted to notice.

"Was I really asleep for days?" he asked seriously, glaring at her when she started laughing.

"No. Not days. But quite a few hours. It's already four o'clock."

"Four o'clock?!"

"Fighting off the flu is tiring work, you know."

"I know that. I'm not stupid," he flashed her a dirty look when she snickered at that. "I'm just kinda shocked I slept so long... and that Scar's gone domestic..."

"If you're like other people you'll fall asleep for longer soon. Maybe a couple days. I guess you could call it a fever coma. And he was helping, not 'going domestic'."

Faith could already see him drifting off while she spoke, his proud chin slowly sinking towards his chest while his eyelids drooped. The quick burst of his panic energy had fizzled out as quickly as it had come.

"Don't float off to Dreamland yet. You need to eat something today, or at least get some liquids in you. You'll dehydrate otherwise at the rate you're sweating."

Half asleep, with eyes closed, he mumbled, "I won't dehydrate..."

A cold trickle down the back of his neck made him jump.

"What the fuck?!"

"Just thought I'd catch your attention. Now drink up then haul your lazy ass back to bed."

"Bossy bitch, aren't you?" he grumbled, staring at the bottle of water she thrust into his hand. "And how the hell did you move so fast with that bum leg?"

"... I adapted. Now get that down or I'll pour it down your throat," she threatened, going back to the couch.

"You're not my mother, woman. Stop ordering me around. I'll drink when I'm thirsty, not because you told me to... But I'm not going to if you keep that smirk on your face."

"I'm not smirking. And you're one to talk, cocky boy."

But she was. She could feel the corners of her mouth twitching from the effort of not smiling. He was acting like a petulant little boy, opposing anything she said no matter if it benefited him or not.

"Look, the best thing you can do to get better is drink lots of fluids and rest. So please drink your water and go back to bed."

"This bottle is open... What did you do? Spit in it? And where'd the bottled water come from?"

He watched in wry amusement as she tried to contain her agitation. By the way she was pulling down on two locks of her overgrown bangs he could tell it was a losing battle.

"You obviously don't listen, and since you're well enough to argue and be so damn annoying, you're well enough to take care of yourself. I'm leaving. Have a nice life."

Standing back up, she tried her best to make a dignified hobble to the door.

Quickly pushing to his feet to say something, Hwoarang's mouth snapped shut on the unformed words as his hazing mind screamed _'BIG MISTAKE!'_ A wave of dizziness hit and immediately his dormant stomach awakened with such force there wasn't time to even think about the toilet. What hadn't been purged by his body earlier now come slamming up his throat. Instinctively he bent over, watching his own vomit splattering on the floor. His insides continued to heave despite the lack of contents, only bringing up bile.

Faith's face appeared in his peripheral vision as she leaned down to look at him. Backhanding the moisture from his mouth and choking back a bout of coughing, he straightened and glared at her suspiciously, waiting for the biting remark that would sting his already wounded pride.

"Will you drink your water now please?"

He blinked at her, confused. No snide comment. And she hadn't left.

"Yes, mommy."

"Smartass to the end, huh? Quit glaring at me. I've had enough of that from you for one day. And go lay back down before you hack up a lung," she added, noticing his effort to not cough.

"You really are bossy... and mommy-ish," he croaked, still refusing to give in.

Ignoring his comment, she gave him a gentle shove towards the bedroom door, hiding her concern. She knew he'd just balk to annoy her if he knew she was worried.

'_How did I end up taking care of a street thug?'_ she thought, edging around the puddle of puke as she went in to the kitchen. _'I could have at least been stuck with someone who doesn't purposely become a thorn in your side.'_

Gathering up the jumble of items she'd had Scar buy, she listened to the provoker brushing his teeth in the bathroom. She heard him finish up and go into his bedroom.

Following him in, she saw that he was already stretched out on the bed in the dim room, stripped to his skivvies with the heat retaining pillows and blankets pushed off to the side. Using her elbow to nudge the light switch on, she again sat next to the man who jerked and covered his eyes at the sudden onslaught of light.

"Don't be a baby."

She could see his eyebrows lower together above the forearm he was using to shield his eyes as he frowned.

"I'm not being..."

"Didn't say you were. I just told you not to be one."

"Quit adding to my headache, woman."

"Fine. Open your mouth, I have to take your temperature to see how high your fever is."

He just moved his arm and looked at her.

"I could shove it up your ass if you'd prefer it taken that way."

Grabbing the slender thermometer she held, he shoved it in his mouth, jamming it under his tongue.

"Good boy. Here's a puke bucket if you need it. I want to clean up as little of that as possible," she said, wrinkling her nose at the thought of the mess that already waited for her. "And here's your water."

Pulling the thermometer out of his mouth, she looked at it and clucked her tongue. She didn't say anything to him, however, just pushed the bottle of water at him.

"You're a little kids worst nightmare," he told her, taking the liquid he was secretly thirsting for.

"And I've never met a bigger child than you."

Hwoarang just snorted, chugging the water.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. It'll just make you sick again. Are you hungry?"

He gave her a look of such disgust, she had to laugh.

"I'll take that as a 'no' There's more water by the bed if you need it. And if you want... Hmm... Already asleep? You could put a narcoleptic to shame, boy."

Getting up to clean the filth in the living room, Faith continued to wonder why she was caring for someone who had practically kidnapped her, and so did not see when the Blood Talon started to have nightmares.

* * *

_The waves beat ceaselessly beneath the hill where he sat on his haunches, whipping up froth the color of sewage and smelling just as foul._

_He looked around at the strange land that seemed so familiar. With a shock he realized that it was one of the back road stops he made on the long journeys he took on his bike. But the lush coastline he knew was gone, replaced with monstrous, twisted reflection of it's former beauty._

_Not only was the formerly nurturing ocean a sterile wastewater, the very air seemed to be a poison, giving the entire land a sickly ashy color. The trees might have looked normal from the distance he was at from them, if it wasn't for the way the bark seemed to crawl across the trunk._

_Going to place his hand on the ground, he quickly pulled back at the unexpected pain it brought. Tiny cuts crisscrossed across his palm and the pads of his fingers, thin trickles of unusually bright blood leaking from the papercut-like slices. Upon closer inspection he saw that the blades of grass were just that, blades. Their edges, razor thin, glinted with a malicious light._

"_Why is everything so wrong?"_

_His voice had an immediate effect on the surroundings. Everything, including the ocean, went silent. Then a moaning began in the trees and became increasingly louder until it became a maddening howl._

_The lusting hunger he heard in that wail kicked his adrenaline into action, and he turned and fled, something he never did. But somewhere deep inside he knew that if he faced what came out of that hostile flora he'd never be the same. It would be something he couldn't handle._

_The land didn't want him to run though. Every step he took, the razor plants cut away at him, trying to get to the flesh protected by his boots. Even the air was against him, turning to sludge in his lungs and suffocating him._

_Stumbling as one of his shredded boots caught in a tangled patch of the butcher grass, he threw out his uninjured hand and it, impossibly, landed on a wooden post, stopping what would have been a very painful and very disfiguring fall. Amazed, he looked at an identical copy of Master Baek's _dojang_._

'_How the fuck did this get out here?...'_

_His thoughts were cut short as a victorious yip pierced the air behind him. With a bound he dashed for the doors he thought he'd never enter again. A screech of outraged loss sounded from the same thing that had cried out in triumph a short time ago as he threw the doors open and entered, but he was deaf to it._

* * *

Peeking in to check on Hwoarang, Faith noticed the excessive twitching and turning he was doing. She crept, as well as she could, to rest a wrist against his forehead.

"You could fry an egg on him at this temperature."

The image brought to mind by the thought made her chuckle as she set out the rest of the items brought to the room earlier. Pouring some cool water in a small bowl and soaking a washcloth in it, she placed it on his forehead.

"Not used to being sick, are you? Wonder what's going on in that head of yours... Fever dreams are never pleasant..."

* * *

_Heart leaping at the thought of once again seeing the place where he had spent so many years learning, the sight that greeted him was a blow. It was an image already engraved into his memory by guilt. An image he blocked out every time it threatened to surface._

_Gone. Burned to the ground._

_Pivoting around to see where he had come in through, all he saw were charcoal posts, the remainder of what was once the doorframe, and scattered piles of debris throughout an ashy waste. No living creature moved or breathed in the presence of such ruin._

_Dazed, the loss once again fresh, he wandered through the shattered timber. The remnants of his former sanctuary snapped beneath his feet, the jagged edges grasping at the hem of his jeans like desperate fingers._

'_Wasn't once enough? Isn't there a way out of this hell?'_

_The ravaged pieces of the _dojang_ echoed with memories. They pleaded with him to make them whole again, accusing him of not being there when his master need him the most._

_Forcing the thoughts from his head, he concentrated on getting away from the wreckage. And amazingly, at the edge of his living nightmare, there was a comforting sight._

'_An alley...'_

_There was no question in his mind as to why a back alley of Seoul was in the middle of nowhere, he was just happy it was. The memories faded as he passed into the lullaby of the city._

_This was the place that had always provided for him, even when Master Baek was alive._

* * *

'Why the hell am I worried for him? He'll be fine, even if he does feel like he'll burn up to cinders,' Faith thought, changing the washcloth for the umpteenth time.

'_Just like taking care of Mel...'_

The fighter had seemed to wake up several times throughout the night, but dropped right back to sleep after slaking his thirst with some assistance from Faith.

'_I'm glad this kind of fever only stays high a couple of days. Some sleep would be nice.'_

Off and on she had dozed, but not in the truly restful stages of sleep. Bedside vigils were nothing new to her though, so the lack of slumber wasn't as important as it would be to other people.

Settling back in the chair she'd dragged to the room, the American slipped into a lighter slumber, both in mood and in depth, than the man opposite of her.

* * *

_He closed his eyes, soaking in the sounds and smells of his beloved metropolis. There was a difference in the air though. Not the malevolence he had found at the toxic beach side, but an impatient expectance. Other than that it felt almost like the Seoul he had always known: big, intimidating, and dangerously exciting._

"_Good to be home..."_

_At that moment he noticed something. Far too many other alleys ran perpendicular to the one he stood in, and others connected at awkward angles. Not only that, he had no view of a true exit, one that met the traffic and busy sidewalks, and looking over his shoulder confirmed that he was boxed in. The way he had come in was now a blank wall._

'_What the fuck's going on now?'_

_Picking out a likely candidate, he set off to find passage to a more normal region. No such luck. Every turn forced him to choose from another multitude of branching possibilities. The walls seemed to press in on him eagerly, no longer friendly._

'_Now I know what those lab mice in mazes feel like. But if I'm the mouse, where the hell is my cheese?'_

_What he found wasn't cheese._

_After rounding several more corners, these ones marked with lurid graffiti, he thought he had found a friend._

"_Hey, Scar! Where the hell are we?"_

_There, slumped against a wall with arms dangling at sides, was one of his oldest and most trusted friends._

"_Scar!... Scar?"_

_He had quickened his steps, noticing something odd in his friends posture. Standing in front of him, he was stunned to find what it was._

_A spike had been driven through the back of the older man's skull, the gleaming tip protruding nearly an inch from his forehead. To him it looked as if the lethal point had been forced through the wall and Scar had been in the way. With horrified fascination he stared at the strangely bloodless wound._

_As if triggered by his thoughts, it started to ooze. Dark liquid seeped from around the embedded metal, sliding across lax features in syrupy rivulets and sizzling as if it were acid. That was not to be the end of it, however. Suddenly spasming as if shocked, the body started to convulse, arms flailing and heels pounding helplessly on the pavement in death throes._

_He was dazed. Unable to move and forgetting to breathe. Only the resounding crack of his friends skull shattering from the hopeless struggles snapped him out of his trance._

_Lurching back into motion, he raced toward the nearest alley to get away from the awful scene, but like a sliding door it slammed shut. Before his eyes, the walls shifted to close off all the exits but one. This only escape was a tunnel through one of the walls, completely enclosed and reminding him of a tiny hallway._

_Not caring that it was obviously a way to guide his steps, he rushed for it, lest it close and leave him with the still twitching corpse. The shift of air behind him after he stumbled through was evident, but he was knocked to the ground by something solid before he could see what it was._

_Gazing up, he met the lifeless eyes of Jae-Hwa. The hostile man was hanging by what appeared to be barbed wire like a piece of meat, swinging back and forth from being ran into. He scrambled back like a crab, his back only hitting another wall._

_Trapped again._

_Feeling panic rising up, he saw that the rest of his gang was also strung up by the deadly wire, the barbs chewing through the tender flesh of their throats._

_Master Baek had once told him that letting fear take hold of him was the same as letting someone place a noose around your neck and kick the stand out from under you. He could feel that hypothetical noose now, slowly drawing tighter..._

_Placing a hand at his throat he found that it wasn't hypothetical at all. He actually had one of those wire loops around his neck. In a frenzy he ripped it up over his head, feeling the barbs hook and tear at his skin but not caring._

_Jumping to his feet, he ran again. This time toward a light that seemed too far away to reach. He pushed past the bodies of his comrades, grimly thinking how this was just like a horror film he had seen. The victim is running through a butchering plant from the killer and the hanging carcasses slow them down and give their position away to the murdering psycho. But these weren't livestock carcasses. These men were his drinking buddies and gambling partners. They were his friends._

_Something wet dripped down his face and he slapped at it as he would a fly. The only thing he let himself focus on was the light. And then he was surrounded by it._

_Cautiously, he searched all his surroundings except the ones behind him, knowing in his gut that it wasn't over. There was nothing in sight but the inconspicuous walls, but this only made him suspicious. Meandering through the terrible maze again, he paused to check around every corner, ignoring the tiny puncture wounds and scratches he had received._

'_I'm being such a coward.'_

_Steeling himself, he simply walked around the next one, still mentally berating his actions. He should have known better._

_Always protect women and children, that's what he'd been taught, and he prided himself on following that rule... Unless the women turned out to be worthy opponents. For that reason, he found the scene in front of him the worst of those he had already encountered._

_The three mainstay ladies in his life were laid out in a large bed, appearing to have been posed just for him on sheets stained a slick red. Hyun-Ok was bent so that one arm rested above her head and the other lay next to her, palm up, with legs bent together. The twins seemed to embrace, curling in on each other. They might have looked asleep if not for the slashes covering their torsos and arms and the unmistakable fear in their wide-eyed, frozen faces. He could tell that whatever had gotten them had to have been terrible to cause such terror in the strongest women he knew._

_Anger seared through him with such intensity he started to shake. Caution was thrown out the window as he began to march through the labyrinth. He was going to kill whatever had done this to his friends..._

_A soft crying stopped him in his tracks. He knew that voice, despite its presence only being recently added in his life._

"_Faith!"_

_Sound meant she was alive. The dead didn't whimper. He hurried towards the direction the sound had come from and abruptly came upon who he had been looking for._

_She was sitting in the middle of a dead end, knees drawn to her chest and slowly rocking back and forth._

"_You're alive!"_

_No response._

"_Are you okay?"_

_Still no response._

_Taking her by the shoulder he gently shook her, but to no avail. Her eyes seemed to be fixed to a point on the dirty cement. Tilting her chin up, he moved to block her line of vision, forcing her to look at him. He wished he hadn't. There was an emptiness there he'd only seen in someone who wanted to stop living._

_A feral chuckling came from further behind the vacantly rocking woman. Instinctively he knew it was what had been chasing him at the beachside. Raising his gaze, he found himself looking at... a mirror image of himself._

"_Surprise..." the other him snarled in a gravelly voice. "Like the artwork?"_

"_Artwork? You bastard! You're the one that did that to them?!"_

"_Not me... You did that. In case you're having a temporary case of blindness I'll be the first to tell you... that I'm you."_

"_You are not me. I would never..."_

"_Oh yes, you would. That's how I was able to do it. Because you would. Think about how many people you've used or hurt for personal gain. I'm just reflecting the real you..."_

_Lunging to his feet he roared, "I would never slaughter my friends! I may do business with my fists on the street, but I have far more honor than that!"_

_The man snorted in contempt. "Do you? And besides, I didn't kill all of them."_

_He looked at them woman still rocking at his feet._

"_What did you do to her?"_

_Although he asked, the question wasn't necessary. He was fully aware of what had happened to her, a pretty young woman, and the smugness in the reflection's eyes only supported his conclusions. Darting around the swaying form of the last surviving person he was acquainted with, he flew at the monster with the audacity to wear his face._

_Anger and battle lust were riled up, tunneling his vision. Without thought he rushed his opponent, who easily deflected the clumsy swipe and slammed a knee into his diaphragm._

_The air left him in one great whoosh. Suddenly the attacker became the attacked._

_With his lungs still spasming from the forced exhalation, defense was a laughable notion. Muscles need oxygen to function, and at that moment he was found himself lacking in that department._

_Trying to protect his head with upraised arms and catch his stolen breath, he was easy prey for the furious barrage of blows raining down his way. What made it worse was that they were his attacks; his techniques. Of all people, he should be the one able to defend against them._

_Instead, the shit was getting knocked out of him. This final bruising of his ego was too much, and out of pure frustration he tried one more lunge forward, lowering his arms to help balance. It was a mistake._

_He knew the moment he lowered his guard it was a stupid move. A swift kick to the chin snapped his head back, the pop his neck made coinciding with the sharp pain he felt._

_Dropping to the ground, he found himself at just the right angle to look into Faith's oblivious face._

_As if mocking the relief he felt at her not witnessing such a shameful downfall, a light of recognition filled her face. She stared at him in fascination, which quickly changed to horror, and opened her mouth to scream._

_But he couldn't hear. The world seemed to be closing down upon him. The only thing he was aware of was the silent mouth of the woman before him, which seemed to be growing in size. He felt himself slipping into that empty void, as one would slip into a black hole._

_And then he fell through, the empty blackness welling up around him..._

* * *

Full consciousness was slow in coming to Hwoarang. The first thing he was aware of was the smell of stale sweat, and as he cracked his eyes open, the familiar pattern of the ceiling.

"About time you woke up, you lazy bastard."

Blinking sleep from his eyes, he sat up and stared groggily at his friend.

"Scar? What the hell are you doing here... again?"

For some reason he was surprised to see his old friend alive. An odd feeling settled in his stomach, as if he was looking at a ghost, but the exact reason why eluded his grasp. All he could remember was having some fucked up dreams.

"I came over so your alley cat could get some actual sleep. She's been taking care of you nonstop since your fever spiked up. You're a very lucky man, you know. How do you always get the gorgeous women taking care of you?"

"Alley cat?... Oh. You mean Faith. I dunno... Must be a gift," the redhead half-joked, sliding out of bed cautiously in case his stomach decided to rebel again and stretching his cramped up muscles. Noticing his slightly weakened state from being bedridden he asked, "How long have I been out?"

"Let's see... All of yesterday and almost all of today. It's 6 o'clock right now. You're just in time for dinner."

"Damn. That's a long time to just lie in bed. Now that you mention it, I am pretty hungry."

Rising from the chair that had until recently been occupied by a certain American, Scar followed Hwoarang to the kitchen. The two men sat at the table and dug into some cold leftover take-out. A perfectly acceptable meal to the two bachelors.

"Grown fond of your little kitty-cat haven't you?" the older man snickered around a mouth full of noodles as he noticed the other glancing at the couch.

"She's not mine, Scar. And I'd like to see you call her a 'little kitty-cat' to her face. You might end up with another scar to even out that ugly mug of yours."

They continued in this vein for awhile, harassing each other back and forth. Laughing raucously at some joke about Hwoarang's many 'conquests', neither of them noticed that someone else had come up, with no effort towards stealth at all, to sit next to them.

"Very classy, boys. Very classy."

Hwoarang spluttered, nearly choking on a bite of meat. When he was sure he wasn't going to choke he spoke.

"You're awake."

"Hard to sleep when there are animals carousing in the kitchen."

She frowned as Scar started to laugh anew, wondering what she'd said that was so funny.

As she was looking at his friend, Hwoarang was looking at her. He noticed the circles under her eyes and the way she slouched tiredly.

"You okay? You look exhausted."

"Hm? Oh... I'm fine. Just a little sleepy is all. But I'm not the one who was sick. How are you feeling?"

"A little shitty. But it's passing."

"That's good. I didn't think you were the type who stays sick for very long. Guess I was right."

"Yeah... If your not going to eat then go back to bed, Faith. You look like hell."

"Thanks. You have no idea what that does for my self-esteem.... That food doesn't look too appetizing anyways though."

The two men watched as she limped back to the couch not knowing what to say now that they had to be quiet.

"You know..." Scar began, "You were having some pretty nasty dreams. At least that's what I think, considering all the thrashing and incoherent yelling you were doing."

"That bad?"

"Yeah. But that girl just kept tending to you, no matter how many times she got smacked in the face."

"I smacked her?"

"Not intentionally. I don't know about the rest of the time, but from what I saw you nailed her pretty good a couple of times. And it was only after your fever went down that she agreed to actually go to bed and let me stand watch."

"Stand watch? This isn't prison."

"No it's not. But she did tell me to wake her up if the fever came back. Seems like you're better though, so that's not a concern now."

"Let's hope not. I hate being sick, and I had this weird feeling when I woke up. It was almost like... Like I wasn't expecting to see anyone I know alive."

"You did keep calling out names."

"I did?"

"Yeah. Most the times you were pretty unintelligible but I caught my name, Hyun's, and Faith's. Anything bothering you?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"Stuff you hide usually lurks in your subconscious. Which means it can affect your dreams."

"Stop sounding so smart. It doesn't suit your appearance."

Scar smirked at him in response, but the thought wouldn't leave his mind. Something was weighing on his leaders mind he just wouldn't say what it was.

"Hey Scar..."

"Yeah?" He had a feeling Hwoarang was going to say something important.

"Does it seem to you that I hurt the people who are close to me?"

"Why would you say that?"

"... Nevermind. Forget I said anything."

"If you'd just explain..."

"I said drop it!"

"Okay... I'd better go. You're feeling better right? I'll be seeing ya around."

"Later..."

Hwoarang sat picking at his food after his friend left, but his appetite was gone. Maybe he did hurt his friends. Stepped on them as he improved himself and intensified his training. The thought stayed with him as he went to squat next to the edge of the couch, watching the latest woman to enter his life twitch in her sleep.

'_I wonder why she does that... Scar's right. She is like a cat...'_

Smiling at the mental image, he went back to bed. It was going to take more sleep to get him back in working order.

* * *

_The ending was a bit rushed because I wanted to get it done (it's 4 o'clock in the morning at the moment I'm typing this). I'll go back through and edit some more. Sorry for the delay!_


	6. Goodbye?

_Holy leaping ninja hamsters, it's another chapter! So… after a couple years of no updates, I actually have nothing to say except… My apologies, and please enjoy! Oh… and don't be confused by the time skip._

_Disclaimer: Tekken characters are not mine.

* * *

_Goodbye?

* * *

Hwoarang was roused from his sleep, an uncomfortably full feeling in his stomach. Scratching absently at his chest, he glanced at the alarm clock and was greeted with the cheerily glaring red of the numbers 4:07 a.m. Shaking away the initial heaviness of waking up in the middle of the night, the redhead grudgingly responded to the urgent sensation that was currently pushing at his bladder.

Flipping back the sheets, he shuffled sleepily to the bathroom, squinting against the light as he flipped the switch upon reaching his porcelain destination. Finishing up his business and cursing that last round of soju Scar had insisted upon, he turned to go back to his bed and blissful unconsciousness.

Exiting the commode, he paused, his body in the hall while one arm still stretched back to the flip the switch. Looking out into the living room where his guest had taken up residence, he squinted to get a better look at where she lay. For a moment, he thought he saw a glint of light, like a reflection from a small shiny object, but chalked it up to fatigue when it disappeared when he blinked. With another inward shrug, the redhead flicked the switch off and shuffled back to his rumpled bedding.

* * *

Faith felt the heat radiating off of her cheeks and ears, a result of what she swore to herself was just shocked embarrassment. Luckily, the light from the bathroom just barely illuminated the living room, although she felt that her glowing cheeks would probably be pulsating beacons in the shadows and giver her away anyway.

She had awakened upon hearing the rattle of the bedroom doorknob and the following squeal of the bathroom door hinge, not a surprising occurrence considering her light sleeping patterns. It was a common enough occurrence, she'd been tucked away in the Blood Talon's abode for a little over two weeks already and had adjusted to his random nighttime shuffling, but she still cracked open an eye to check out the situation just in case. Mild paranoia about living with a stranger will do that to a girl.

Like any other night, it was just Hwoarang. And he'd had quite a bit to drink judging by the sounds issuing from the wide open door. The aqua-eyed woman simply shook her head at the impropriety of it and snuggled her face back into the pillow she'd been provided, fully intending on ignoring any further sounds and going back to Dreamland.

It was only by chance, or perhaps the beckoning draw of the still shining light, that Faith lazily opened her eyes again. They subsequently flew open in surprise.

There, framed by the yellowish-white glow of a light bulb she'd dusted not too long ago, was a nearly naked Hwoarang staring right at her. Or rather, where he knew she was. She'd seen him in his boxers before, like while he was sick and pretty much every morning thereafter when he grabbed something to eat, but there was something about him in that moment that made her breath catch.

His expression was sleepily intent, the staunch handsomeness of his face softened by fatigue induced laxness. His usually spiked hair glowed bright red and lay flat in places while sticking out in others; a prime example of adorable bed head if ever there was one. Gazing lower, she could see the definition of his well toned body enhanced by the spotlight effect, with the ridges looked deeper and the planes smoother. Without thinking, she let her eyes go lower, following the cuts at his hips as they sank into the low slung band of his boxers. There she could see the faint lined of a dark treasure trail that seemed to invite her gaze lower still.

'_No, no, no, no!'_ she mentally chastised, squeezing her eyes shut.

She didn't see the light go out as much as she sensed it, her eyes still tightly shut, but still she waited, listening to the scuff of feet sliding across carpet and the rattle of the door handle. It was only then that she dared opened her eyes, although the glowing image of the Asian Adonis was burned into her retinas either way. Trying to shake the image of her half-nude host from her mind, Faith buried her face in the pillow, vehemently chastising herself every time the thought of that gorgeous stomach nudged its way back into her mind. Or those perfect pectorals, far from flabby but not disgustingly pumped up either. Or those strong thighs. Or…

"**NO, NO, NO, NO**!" she berated herself into the heavily stuffed cushion this time, the words muffled and absorbed by the synthetic stuffing. "I won't give him the satisfaction of letting him know he's attractive. His head's big enough as it is."

She could practically see the smug, slightly amused smirk spreading across the fighters face if he learned she found him even remotely sexy, and it made her seethe inside. He thought he was hot stuff, and it seemed that the entire female population of Seoul and beyond agreed. She knew, because he insisted upon telling her, especially since he knew it irritated her to listen to the drivel about swooning girls and hints of easy lays. After enduring such torments, she would be _damned_if she did anything to swell his ego any more than it already was.

Rolling over, Faith pulled the blankets tight about herself, still muttering darkly in agitation as attempted sleep again.

* * *

Downtown Seoul had come to life with the rising of the sun, not that it ever truly slept. People flowed in living streams to work, play, or wherever else their lives were leading them, against the backdrop sounds of boisterous, blaring city noises. There were stirrings beyond these happenings, however, tucked away in apartments in a slightly quieter, though no more peaceful, manner.

It was several days after the fantasy-inducing episode, and Faith stood at the sink washing dishes after breakfast, humming half heartedly along with the radio to a song she didn't know, but that had a simple and catchy refrain. Her mind was full at the moment and her heart heavy. Even the flashbacks of a rippling body and boyishly handsome face that had tormented her dreams lately could not lighten her mood.

She'd just called the hospital back home, via a disposable cell she'd conned Scar into buying for her, to check on Melody. Her health was deteriorating quicker than ever, the doctors had said, and she wouldn't hold on much longer.

The words had created such an overflow of guilt, that Faith didn't know what to do with herself at first. Here she was, the big sister supposed to be trying to find a way of helping her younger sibling, but who was instead living like a housewife with someone she barely knew. The fact that she could feel herself growing more and more attracted to him only added to the flood of shame. This wasn't a vacation for find romance, it was supposed to have been a quick trip to investigate foreign medicines.

"Damnit!" She slammed her sudsy hands down on the edge of the counter, gripping it as if to choke the formica in her frustration. "I'm so sorry, Melody. I got whisked away like some dumbshit in a romance novel and forgot about you…"

It was at that point that Hwoarang emerged from his bedroom, dressed and ready to cause some hell… or at least to tease his guest, as it had become his favorite pasttime. He was going to ask her what the hell was up lately. She was as sassy as ever, but at times had been acting strange, refusing to look him in the eye, and he could've sworn she'd blushed the few times he had caught line of vision. The words died in his mouth, however, seeing her hanging her head over the sink, her grip white-knuckled where she was bracing herself against the countertop.

"Hey, Ostrich, you're dripping all over the floor."

No response. Not even to the nickname he knew got a rise out of her, since as it turned out she wasn't the type to stick her head in the sand as he'd suggested when they first met.

'_What the hell?'_ he thought, moving in closer.

"Hey…"

"Don't, Hwoarang. Just don't."

The tone of voice took him aback, stalling the hand he'd reached out to grab her shoulder. It was a cold tone, distant, sad, and… angry? Definitely not her usual tone.

"I have to go home, Hwoarang." She turned around as she spoke, keeping her back pressed against the countertop for support. "I have to go home," she reiterated when he said nothing.

His eyebrows lowered dangerously as he frowned, a look that clearly displayed displeasure. A surge of incomprehensible anger filled him at the thought.

"So you just wanna leave like that. I offer make amends for busting your leg and I get fuckin' spit on…"

"It's not like that, I have to go home."

"No one asked you to play fuckin' housewife if that's why you feel the need to rush out. It's not like…"

Now it was Faith's turn to get angry.

"I did that as a thank you, you bastard! I wouldn't have offered if you'd fucking _expected _it! I have to go home for my sister!"

"Now you're gonna lie?" he snarled, backing away and making an angry beeline for the door. "If you didn't want to stay here you should have just said so."

"SHE'S DYING!"

He paused at the front door, looking back at the woman with an expression set as if in stone. She still stood pressed against the sink, but something had changed in her posture. It wasn't the stubborn, bitchy Faith he was used to battling verbally with. She looked, in that moment, to be a porcelain figurine ready to break under the weight on her shoulders. Turning away, he left the apartment without another word.

"You bastard. You son of a bitch…" she uttered softly, sagging against her support counter.

Staying that way for a few minutes, Faith contemplated on what to do. She had never told Hwoarang about her sister because she figured she'd of been out of here a long time ago, and didn't like to talk to strangers about her dying sibling anyway. The looks of pity were always too much to put up with. And so she'd kept putting off leaving and giving in to his insistence to stay and heal. It was time to go now though. He'd just proven it with that blank, uncaring look.

Grabbing her coat, one of many article of clothing she'd gotten second hand from the gang's girls at Hwoarang's persuasion, she limped her way to the door. Come hell, high water, or the need to hobble around Seoul all fucking week, she was leaving.

* * *

Hwoarang felt conflicted walking away from the U.S. Embassy. It hadn't been his original destination, but without realizing it he'd ended up on the buildings steps staring at the telltale flags.

He glanced down at the packet of papers in his hand and wondered why on earth he'd ended up tramping into the building with a flood of questions on how to return to the United States if a passport was lost. He'd raised suspicions, but after an extensive explanation to one of the clerics he'd managed to procure the papers in hand. And what a stack of papers they were.

Turning the corner where his bike was parked and thinking of the sad-eyed woman he'd have to face upon returning home, he had no time to react to the rifle butt that came crashing into face. Dazed, he dropped the papers and lurched forward to retaliate when another blow came from behind, sending him sprawling. A flurry of footsteps seemed to surround him as soon as he hit the ground, as did the sounds of safeties being released.

"Well, well, well. Nowhere to run this time, deserter."

Hwoarang had time to look up and see a forest of military uniform clad legs and the smug face of the officer who'd tried to capture him in the parking garage with Kazama. The view was short lived, however, as another blow knocked him unconscious.

* * *

Faith stumbled onward down the busy sidewalk, her leg screaming at her in protest of her stupidity. The resting time she'd had at Hwoarang's place had let her sprain heal, but the bone bruise was still a bitch when it came to walking anywhere for a period of time, and she'd been out and about for nearly five hours.

Avoiding a patch of trodden paper garbage and what appeared to be a bloodstain on the sidewalk, she turned the corner and nearly cried out in joy upon seeing the United States flags waving from what _had _to be the Embassy. Hobbling as quickly as possibly, she hopped up the stairs and headed right towards the front desk.

"I'd like to report a stolen passport," she panted, still out of breath from her rush to get there. "I probably should of reported it sooner but I was injured and…"

"Excuse me, miss, is your name Faith?"

"Pardon?" she asked, wondering who could possibly be asking for her.

Turning around, she was faced with someone of obvious importance judging by the way he held himself and the deferential nod the woman behind the desk gave him.

"Come with me, miss. The paperwork will all be worked out and you'll be home in no time, courtesy of the Embassy."

"But…"

Without receiving any further explanation, Faith had no choice but to follow the man to his office, where took down her information, signed several papers, made a phone call, wished her a good day, and handed her off to someone else. It all happened so fast, she didn't know quite what to make of it. She'd heard that getting a passport in a foreign country could be a pain in the ass, but without doing anything but giving some information and showing her drivers license, which luckily hadn't been stolen due to being in her pocket, she seemed to have a free ride out.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" she asked her new escort, who had only spoken enough to ask her if she had any belongings she needed to take along.

"No."

"If you did, would you tell me?"

"No."

"Wonderful."

Sitting quietly in the Embassy provided vehicle, Faith wondered about everything that had just happened. Now that she actually had time to think on it, the whole thing seemed suspicious. Eyeing her escort with her peripheral vision, she wondered how hard it would be to take him down. Before she actually summoned the courage to do so, the car slowed to a stop and he got out, holding the door open. Cautiously, she looked out.

"We're at the airport."

And so Faith soon found herself on a plane home, the connecting flight landing right in the city where Melody was hospitalized. Whether that was on purpose or by chance, she'd never now, but was nonetheless thankful.

With more free time than she wanted, Faith found herself thinking about Hwoarang and Scar and the others. She hadn't said goodbye. She hadn't said thank you. Hell, she didn't even have their phone numbers to call and express such thoughts. And she was confused at how on earth she'd gotten a trip back home so quickly.

In the end though, none of it was as important as the fact that she was on her way home to take care of Melody, something she should have done a long time ago. Still, there was a part of her that longed to go back. To wait on the couch for a certain fighter to show up and tease her about being a gimp. But she couldn't, there were more important things that needed her attention.

"Goodbye," she whispered, gazing at the city of Seoul as it grew smaller and smaller.

* * *

Hwoarang pulled his gloves on, flexing them so they stretched and fit comfortably. His gray prison uniform lay piled on the bed beside him, having been barely worn before that ambassador had showed up with the most shocking news he'd ever read. Staring at the letter in amazement again, the fighter shook his head before tucking the paper into his back pocket.

"I'm coming, Master."


	7. The Marketplace

_Update, 12/18/08: Name changes for minor OCs. See Chapter 2's Author Note._

_I need a beta reader. Seriously._

_Also, in this chapter English dialogue will be in bold, just to help sort things out. _

_Disclaimer: Tekken concepts and characters belong to Namco.

* * *

_The Marketplace

* * *

"Hey, baby. Whatcha doin' here all by yourself?"

The words, bearing the trademark slur of inebriation, were half-whispered tickles along Hwoarang's ear as he sat at the bar of an underground club. The breathy question was followed by an uninvited kiss on the neck, delicate hands and arms insinuating themselves around his torso from behind.

Normally receptive to such advances, the Tae Kwon Do pupil pulled a very un-Hwoarang like move and twisted away from the kiss, standing and unbalancing the woman to release the hold of her gloss-sticky lips from his skin.

Reflexively he caught her wrists as she wobbled on stilt-like heels, directing her to a vacant barstool before she could topple like a novice circus performer. With a quick once-over he noticed she was what many of his friends would call 'quite the little dish', as well as being the type he himself preferred for an enjoyable evening. Unfortunately he wasn't in the mood for slinky dresses and stilettos at the moment. He did flash her a smile though, mentally filing away her face, and the gorgeous legs exposed by her skirt, for a later engagement.

Having decided that that particular establishment wasn't a conducive environment for his current frame of mind, especially considering that he was denying such an easy opportunity after a dry spell of female affection, he slammed the last of his drink and headed straight for the door. Going out for a few drinks was the redhead's favorite way of taking the edge off stress, but the loud music, strong alcohol, and overall lively atmosphere had been more irritating than soothing this time around.

Emerging from the pulsating club, Hwoarang shoved his black-gloved hands into his pockets, striding down the neon illuminated sidewalk with a gait only the most confident can assert when alone in a less-than-friendly neighborhood. Several shady looking individuals approached him as he meandered on his late night venture, but most were smart enough to back off at a sneer from the wild-looking fighter. One, however, would go home that night with a very sore face and the remains of what used to be a nose.

"Stupid sonofabitch," Hwoarang muttered to himself, loosing the slight tension relief the shots at the club had given him.

It didn't help his mood any that he had to walk back to his military apartment, Baek having taken away his motorcycle keys and refusing to give them back until he had proven some increase in discipline.

Baek. The reason he was so frazzled at the moment.

Hwoarang had been pissed off after the military had finally caught him all those months ago, but his angry stewing had given way to sheer astonishment upon receiving word from the Killing Hawk, whom he'd thought dead after his mysterious disappearance. What followed after that was a vague blur of release forms, boring car rides filled with jumbled thoughts of a smartass alley cat and uncertain events to come, and then the joyous moment of reuniting with his master.

The mental turmoil of those events had long faded, however. It was the events following, and continuing to this day, involving the man that were bothering him. As devoted as he was to his mentor, and as happy as he was that the older man was alive and kicking, quite literally, the lifestyle change of pure independence back to that of obedient pupil was chafing a little more than he'd expected. His days were spent training and learning hard-to-swallow lessons in discipline, and nights that he'd typically be out on the town were spent in a worn out, dreamless sleep.

"Brought it on myself," he muttered, kicking at a crushed can on the ground. "Who'd of thought Master would take it to heart when I begged him to make me stronger... Damn you, Kazama! This is all 'cause of you, you freakish piece of shit!"

A nearby homeless man peeked out of his cardboard bed at the outburst, but ducked quickly back inside before the furious man noticed him.

With the cork out of the emotional bottle, Hwoarang felt all the negative buildup of the past few months ready to spew out, heated by his reflections of the past. His defeat at the hands of the devil-horned Jin. Waking up in a hospital afterward with his mentor nearby. Being humiliated as he tried to get out of bed and falling on his knees like a newborn colt. The complete lack of fun in his life. Needless to say, he'd been just a touch stressed out.

"I _will _get stronger and I _will _find you, Kazama. You'll pay for more than just ruining my perfect record."

* * *

"You look like _shit_, man."

Hwoarang snorted into his glass. "Tell me about it."

Seated at the table of his old apartment, he was sharing a welcome home drink with Scar. More of the gang had wanted to come, but he'd said no and that he'd see them later. After all, he and Baek were only in town for a week or so to scout possible dojang sites in the surrounding areas.

"Thanks for holding the apartment for me, by the way. It was shitty of me to just ditch everyone, but you guys must be doin' good to be able to afford paying the rent for empty space."

"Don't mention it. Most of 'em are afraid you'd kick our asses if it wasn't here for you when you returned." Scar paused, looking thoughtful. "You know... You've explained how the army got a hold of you again, sneaky bastards, but you never mentioned what happened to Faith. She vanished the same time you did..."

"I sent her home."

The reply was followed by a questioning silence from the other man. Hwoarang gave a nonchalant shrug as he explained further.

"Got a few friends in higher places. And I promised not to desert again or beat the shit out of the guards if given a chance, but only on the grounds that she was allowed to get home without going through too much hell. She lost her passport and all that government required crap. Woulda made it hard to leave..."

Scar sat back and crossed his arms, observing his leader with a slight smile tugging on his lips.

"Aww... How sweet. So do ya miss her?"

"... What?"

"The alley cat. Do you miss her?"

The Blood Talon glared at his companion, irritated by the knowing expression he was receiving.

"I only knew her for a short time, Scar. It's not like we were involved."

"Some people get married in that span of time."

"Some people are dumbasses."

"Touché, my friend. Touché."

They lapsed into silence, Hwoarang grumbling over his glass, Scar sitting back and looking amused with beer in hand. It was in this manner that they spent a good half hour, finishing another round while lost in their own thoughts. Scar was the first to break the moment, pushing his chair back and collecting empty bottles to throw away.

"Well, I'd better get going. Business to take care of and all that. You've probably got a shitload to do now that you're back."

"Not really."

Scar quirked an eyebrow at his friend's depressed tone.

"You could come with me and hang out with the gang. I'm sure Hyun-Ok will be overjoyed to see you."

"Nah. Especially not when you say it with that shiteatin' grin on your face. I don't feel like having my leg humped all damn day."

"All right, man. But uh... maybe you should go check out that little market street near Kwan's parts shop. I went there yesterday and they've got some pretty interesting sights."

Hwoarang snorted at the suggestion. "Isn't that a tourist trap?"

"Yeah. But it's the 'tourists' I was talking about."

With a grin, Scar slapped his friend good-naturedly on the back and took his leave. Stopping with the door open, he turned back one last time.

"Seriously man, go check it out. You won't regret it."

* * *

Shivering unexpectedly, Faith crossed her arms and shook off the weird feeling she'd been having all day, turning from the less than serene view outside the window.

"Oooh! Something big is gonna happen today! I can feel it!"

The singsong voice called out in uneven Korean from the direction of the bathroom. The source, a young Korean woman with damp platinum blonde hair and nothing but a towel on, joined her by the window.

"**Another beautiful day in noisy, smelly Korea,"** the woman continued, this time in her accented first language.

Faith couldn't help but laugh. **"As if it's any worse than noisy, smelly New York."**

"**Hey! At least I understand what the hell people are saying to me in New York. Plus, I can cuss them out and they understand the eloquent way in which I do it."**

"**Because calling someone a shit-faced monkey fucking dickcheese is an art form, yes?"**

"**'Course it is."**

Rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless, Faith pushed her scantily covered friend back towards her bedroom.

"**Stop standing by the window for the pervs and go get dressed. You're gonna be late helping your parents open up shop."**

"**Honestly, Faith. We should just trade places or something. You'd make a much more dutiful daughter than I am, and they'd be thrilled to have one that speaks Korean without having to stop and think about it every few words. I can hear it already: 'We trade you in for her. She good daughter. You go back to crazy America and live your bad, crazy life.' You know, they still say that raising me there was enough American exposure for a lifetime and that they had to come back here to recuperate for the rest of their lives."**

"**Yeah I know. You were a traumatizing little bitch, Eun.** **Now shut up and get dressed! No more sob stories!"**

Literally kicking her friends ass into gear, Faith grabbed her own jacket and sat down to wait. Eun had come to Korea to help her aging parents take care of their shop and any other household needs they might require, but the rebellious girl had long ago shunned learning anything that had to do with her embarrassingly foreign parents, including the language. Suddenly in the role of foreigner, she'd asked Faith to come with her, all expenses paid, if she'd keep her company and give her a crash course in language lessons.

Faith had had no objections, seeing as how she telecommuted to work anyway and could still get paid as long as she lived where there was Internet. Besides that, Eun had been her closest, and sometimes only, friend through the worst of Melody's hospitalization stints. There was no way she would turn down such a request, which was basically just asking that there be a friend there for her during the readjustment phase.

She wasn't allowing herself to think of the other, more personal reasons that had nudged her to return to Seoul. That line of thinking would only lead her to disappointment and she knew it. And besides that, she'd already had to dodge that bullet earlier in the month and didn't want to worry about it any more than necessary.

* * *

Hwoarang couldn't believe he'd actually listened to Scar.

Dressed down to casual jeans and a hooded sweatshirt to stand out as little as possible, he found himself slipping through the crowds of people and the little shops filled with their overpriced goods, seeing little of interest. Overall it had been an extremely irritating journey, and the scowl on his face was enough to prevent anyone from approaching him for directions or requests of other trivial knowledge.

Cussing to himself about how hard he was going to pummel Scar for ruining an otherwise _almost_ annoyance free day, the redhead stopped at a particularly noisy stall. Birds of brights colors were fluttering around their cages, squawking or whistling for attention, while various rodents stared out curiously at passerby. Pausing for a moment to cluck at the creatures, he liked the little bastards if they belonged to someone else, his gaze wandered until it caught on an equally pretty creature. Only this one wasn't in a cage.

Across the way was a traditional clothing shop, a blonde woman in an emerald green top flitted about piles of folded fabric. Although her hair was obviously dyed, it suited the rest of her bright ensemble and the pretty face it framed.

_'Might as well have a little fun while I'm here,' _he thought with a growing smirk, weaving his way to the shop.

"Excuse me, miss," he said, using his suavest charmer voice.

"Ye?" the woman turned to him, eyes wide in expectation of a question.

Smiling wider, he began, "I was just wondering what your name was and..."

"**MAMAAA! WE GOT A TALKER!"**

Hwoarang jumped at the unexpected yell, in English no less, and stared at the pale-haired woman in confusion. She smiled sweetly, giving a slight bow and excusing herself for a moment in stilted Korean.

_'Holy shit. Wasn't expecting that one.'_

In a few moments the woman returned, a look of anxiety on her face. In more choppy attempts, she tried to explain that she would do her best to help him find what he needed, but was still learning the language. He found her struggles rather adorable. Just as he opened his mouth to speak to her in English another voice interrupted.

"**What do you need, Eun? Your mother's busy sorting."**

The question came from behind a tall stack of some kind of robes, the arms carrying them as feminine as the voice. And almost as familiar. Looking closer, Hwoarang stared at the brunette as she set the armload of clothing down with her back to him, sorting them out as the blonde explained the situation.

"**All right, Eun. I got it."**

Hwoarang's heart nearly jumped into his throat as the second woman turned around to address him. Judging by the way her own jaw dropped and the deer-in-the-headlights look, she was feeling the same way. Luckily, Eun broke the silence, intrigued by the looks they were giving each other.

"**So... I take it you two know each other?"**

Neither replied at first. Finally realizing that he probably looked like a startled fish, Hwoarang cleared his throat.

"Faith. Imagine seeing you here. I thought you'd gone home."

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

Not exactly the response he was expecting. Narrowing his eyes at the rude inquiry, he replied, "This _is _my home country, not to mention city. It should be me demanding to know why the hell you're back."

"Scar told you didn't he?! _I'm going to kill him! He promised!_"

As Faith alternated between demanding he leave and promising bodily harm to his friend, the Blood Talon was letting what she'd said sink in.

"So _that's _why he told me to come to the market. Enjoy the sights..." he began to laugh.

"_HE DID TELL YOU!_"

"Calm _down_, alley cat. Damn. Why do you have your panties in such a bunch over me knowing you're here?"

For the first time since she'd opened her mouth at his arrival, Faith went silent. In fact, the sheer frigidity of the sudden silence could have almost physically dropped the surrounding temperature.

"Just go away."

If words could be ice, there would have been a redheaded icicle pincushion in the market that day. As it was, however, Faith merely turned on her heel and stalked back to where Eun's mother still sat despite the commotion.

"**Well from what I could understand, that went wonderfully."**

Hwoarang alternated his glare between the two women, wishing at that moment that looks really could kill. He was irritated enough by being completely clueless as to why he'd encountered such a bitchy reception, so his patience for someone picking at the incident was minimal at best.

"**Don't give me that look, loverboy," **Eun growled at him before he could reply. Lowering her voice she told him, **"I don't know what you did, but you should just leave her alone for now. She's really touchy lately, and you must have done something really bad to deserve being shit on like that."**

_'Interesting word choice,' _he thought, shaking his head. He still had to play dumb at not understanding what she was saying. "I didn't do anything."

"**Oh. I'm sure you didn't."**

The dripping sarcasm didn't do anything to help his mood. Lifting his lip in annoyance at the entire situation, Hwoarang pivoted and stalked away from the little clothing shop. Practically prowling through the market in agitation, he pushed the thought of the irksome blonde out of his mind and focused on the time he had spent with Faith, trying to think of what could have made her react so strongly.

They'd had plenty of arguments, neither was of the peacemaking persuasion after all, but those had all been either to irritate the other or to just argue for the sake of arguing. He couldn't think of one that either of them had taken to heart. In fact, the only confrontation they'd had that hadn't been forgotten or resolved with further sarcasm was the exchange of scathing words they'd had right before he'd been caught and she'd gone home...

"Holy fuck. She's still sore over that_?_"

The quickness with which he spun back around startled the already nervous tourist couple walking behind him, causing them to stumble backwards and nearly fall. Ignoring their panicked expressions, Hwoarang pushed between the two and stormed back along the same path he'd already traveled, his pace twice as quick as it had been. Along the way he received a mixture of confused looks and eyebrows raised in curiosity.

More than a few began to raise as he reached his destination.

"Are you being such a bitch because of that argument?!"

The redhead had shoved his way to where Faith and an older woman sat sorting garments, angry customers and toppled piles in his wake. His vague wording confused Eun's mother, who had started to squawk over her mistreated merchandise, but the meaning was understood by the younger woman, whose own scowl to deepened.

"_Yes_," she practically hissed, rising stiffly to confront him as her own initial surprise died, "Now leave! You're making a scene and fueling future gossip about my friends!" She moved to push him backwards and force a retreat if necessary.

"I will _not!_"

The force of the reply, a bark of belligerent refusal, took her by surprise, as did the powerful grips that suddenly encircled her wrists before they could proceed in shoving him out. In one jerk, he had brought her flush up against him, forcing the irate woman to look up into his face.

"I don't know what it was I said to piss you off like this, so you're going to tell me. Now spill."

"Fuck off!"

"Damnit, Faith!" his grip tightened slightly on her wrists, "Just fucking tell me!"

"Why? You don't care." Hwoarang was taken aback at the soft chill of her voice. He'd been expecting screaming again. "That's what's wrong. You just don't give a fuck about anyone but yourself. The only reason you care that I'm pissed is because it's making _you _feel crappy."

"I took you in when you were stranded here. Fed you, clothed you, and then made a shitty deal with a bunch of military jerkoffs so you could get home to your sister and you tell me..."

_'Oh you dumb fuck. Her sister. YOU DUMB FUCK!' _

The hands that had held Faith's captive slackened as he trailed off, allowing her to slip them out and rub where the it had begun to throb. Glaring, she in turn received the same unreadable expression that had stung so badly the last time they'd seen each other. This time, however, there was something lurking behind his eyes.

The fighter had finally put two and two together, piecing together the outburst from before they'd parted and Eun's own revelation about her friend.

"Your sister. Shit. I'm... sorry, Faith. I hope you got to be with her before she died."

He backed slowly away while speaking, no one in the shop moving to stop him. Faith was stunned at his words. Still, she kept her mouth shut as he left.

"**If you let him get away, I swear I'll kick your ass."**

Faith ignored her friend as she pranced towards her from the front of the shop. She was still in shocked amazement at the moment of humbleness Hwoarang had displayed. Not cocky. Not smirking. Not even a slight hint of smartass in there. He'd genuinely apologized.

"**Did you hear me, woman?! TOTAL. HOTTIE. DIGGING ON YOU!" **Faith turned to look at Eun as the blonde spoke and gesticulated wildly. **"I don't care what went on between you two, you can't just let him walk away like that. I got that he was apologizing, and looking quite adorable while doing so. Besides, you really need to get laid."**

"**Eun! I can't just..."**

"**Yes you can! Now go get him!.... Fine! I'll go get that fine hunk of muscled sweetness..."**

"**Like hell you will!" **Faith snapped into action, grabbing her friends shoulder and yanking her back.

Fueled by agitation at the thought of Eun shamelessly throwing herself at the Blood Talon, she left her stationary spot in the shop, her friend grinning all the while.

Hunting for a flash of bright red hair amongst a sea of dark, Faith bobbed up and down throughout the crowd of people. He wasn't hard to find.

"Hwoarang!"

Several people gave her odd looks, but only one stopped and waited for her to catch up, a look of wariness set on his face. Getting close, she slowed her pace and tried to think of what she could possibly say to someone she'd basically told to fuck off and then followed. Not wanting to look like a gaping mouthed idiot, she blurted the first thing that came to mind.

"You're an asshole."

The redhead's eyebrows lowered, his eyes glinting dangerously as he opened his mouth to reply to such a charming statement.

"But..." she continued, holding up a hand to stall his insults, "So am I. So I guess that makes us even. You couldn't of known her condition. I never told you. And I... didn't know you'd done that to help me get home... Thank you. I... wouldn't of gotten to be there when she passed with all the red tape the government makes you go through. So... yeah.... thanks..."

Feeling awkward, Faith stood there a moment under scrutiny before nodding curtly and turning to leave, having said her piece. His intense gaze was making her feel uncomfortable. A light grab at her fingers stopped the woman, the cocky smile directed her way an even more effective anchor than the touch.

"Come on, asshole. I'll buy you dinner. It's nice to be thanked and everything, but the serious vibe is too much. You can eat and then go back to selling tourists outdated styles."

When she glared and sent a sharp punch into his ribs, Hwoarang couldn't help but laugh and rub the sore spot.

* * *

_Sorry for the long delay. I had finals and then moved, but now I have an ungodly number of hours to spend doing whatever, so chapters will come more quickly. I already have half of the next one written. ;)_


	8. A Lesson In Discipline

_A/N: My apologies if this chapter seems a touch awkward. I had several pages already written and was trying to squeeze them in with the new text._

_Disclaimer: Tekken and it's characters are still not mine. Faith, Eun, and other assorted characters, however, are fruit of my brain. So no stealing._

* * *

A Lesson In Discipline

* * *

"**You _what?!"_**

"**Stop gaping, Eun. It's such an unattractive expression for a pretty thing like you to be having."**

"**Shut up, Faith! I can't believe you turned him down for dinner! Do you know how many girls would kill to get that invitation?!"**

"**Yes I do. In fact, he's told me many times just how desirable he is to half the population."**

"**Yeah well..."**

"**Besides," **Faith interjected, **"it would just be too... I dunno. Casual?"**

"**What the fuck do you want then? Dining on a flying trapeze while the Spice Girls serenade you?"**

Faith had to laugh at the mental image that brought, throwing her bag and jacket into an armchair. Eun's mother had been so displeased with the incident that would have neighboring stalls gossiping for weeks, that she'd sent both of them home. Faith because she'd been at the heart of the matter, Eun because she was worthless in the shop without Faith to translate, and had no patience to do it herself.

"**Enough about that though. We've got nothing better to do right now so it's time for a lesson."**

"**But..."**

"**Do you want to be able to cuss people out here in Seoul or not?"**

"**... Yes..."**

"**Than sit down and shut up... unless it's in Korean."**

* * *

Around the same time Eun was learning how to instigate her new countrymen, Hwoarang was almost back to his own place, although productive activities were the last thing on his mind. Feeling more stung than he was willing to let on by being denied, he planned to go out with the gang for the first time in a long time, and nothing was going to stop him. Come hell, high water, or...

"I've found a suitable location to build the dojo."

"_Holy fuck!_" Hwoarang nearly jumped out of his skin as he entered the supposedly deserted apartment. "What the hell are you doing in here?!"

"Is that any way to talk to your Master?"

"No, Master Baek," the startled pupil bowed respectfully in apology, the momentary adrenaline boost dying down "But how did you find...?"

"I have my ways. The same ways that got me an extra key to open the door."

Baek was sitting serenely at the small table in the kitchen, looking sharp in a clean pressed suit and waving said key lazily in circles. Hwoarang's eyes narrowed at the dull metal. How the aging teacher had gotten in had been his next question, but staring at his nonchalant mentor the answer came to him.

"Scar is really lookin' to get his ass beat down."

Baek responded with a small smile of bemusement.

Tucking away the vindictive thoughts about what to do with his second-in-command for later, the redhead sat himself at the table and switched to a more intriguing topic.

"So you already found a place to build? So quickly? It's only been two days. I thought the bureaucratic crap and paperwork for stuff like that took a while to get through."

"My reputation precedes me."

"I don't doubt that, Master. I'm just surprised the military is willing to let their most skilled and renowned instructor go, much less assist in his settling somewhere else."

"Arrangements have been made in that area. As of now, however, I'm taking time to pursue my own ventures. The dojo is my main project and I won't be satisfied until I have one to teach in. They know that the sooner I have a place to instruct, the sooner I can get back to training their soldiers."

Hwoarang smiled at that. He knew his mentor liked to have a structured environment in which to drill his students into the ground.

"So we'll be staying in Seoul for awhile then?"

"Yes. But don't think that means you can run around the streets wreaking havoc. I thought I'd broken you of those stupid street fights."

"That's not what I had in mind, Master."

Baek eyed his star pupil suspiciously, but said nothing as the young man sat smiling mysteriously into thin air. With a heavy mental sigh, the Killing Hawk wondered who would be on the receiving end of whatever devilry was being brewed up in that mind.

* * *

Scar sat watching the scene before him, unsure as to whether he should be laughing or wincing in empathy for his friend. Without too much thought he settled for the former.

Standing across from the little shop in the marketplace where Faith spent most of her days helping her friends family, and where Hwoarang had taken up haunting in order to bug her, the street hustler was watching as his leader clutched himself in obvious pain. He'd pushed his luck too far for the day.

Still chortling, he decided to keep back and talk to Hwoarang when he wasn't busy cradling himself.

* * *

"I warned you."

"Bitch."

"Still doesn't change the fact that I warned you," Faith quipped, casually stepping around the bent figure of her antagonist.

It had been a little over a month since Hwoarang had discovered her presence in Seoul. Thereafter he had taken it upon himself to show up every day he wasn't training to be a pain in the ass, much to Faith's chagrin.

"You're cold, woman."

"And you're a lecher. You brought it on yourself," she replied coolly, straightening a display with her back to him.

As she finished speaking, a stinging slap connected with her backside. Spinning about for retaliation, he obviously hadn't learned from the first groin kick, she was stalled from striking as a large hand wrapped about her arm and a low kick knocked her to a graceless landing onto still-stinging cheeks.

"That," Hwoarang sneered, leaning over her, "is for the cheap shot."

Surprised at the sudden recovery, he had an unsettling way of moving quickly when she least expected it, Faith outwardly glared back, but noticed with an inward cackle that he'd guarded his crotch while trying to look threatening, completely ruining the effect. It brought her further satisfaction to see that as he walked away he did so carefully and not with his usual swagger.

Getting back to her feet, she dusted herself off and inspected for any garment damage. Other than a small tear in her long-sleeved shirt, only her pride was hurt at being knocked down so easily. With a slight huff of irritation, although a trace of wicked satisfaction still lingered, Faith turned on her harrier, who had taken up a position leaning on a nearby post with arms crossed. It looked suspiciously like pouting.

"Shouldn't you be helping that mentor of yours with his dojo or something?"

That caught his attention more than anything else could have.

"Watch your tone. Master Baek could pummel you into oblivion, so show some respect when you speak of him."

Faith bit back a smartass remark, smiling quietly to herself instead despite the pointed look aimed her way. Everyone had their touchy buttons, and she was figuring out his now as quickly as he'd found hers when they'd first met. Baek Doo San just so happened to be a giant red button with the word 'Caution' slapped on it.

"That doesn't answer the question, twinkletoes. Shouldn't you be helping to build your little playhouse?"

The words elicited an enraged growl. Before he could start in on a peevish tirade, she spoke up again.

"Now, now. There are only so many times you can call a woman a bitch before she takes drastic measures."

It took every ounce of Hwoarang's self-restraint not to lunge at the smarmy female. She was laughing at him with her eyes, and he realized it was her way of getting back at him for all the teasing she'd had to endure for the past several weeks. Still, the thug was finding it was a hell of a lot harder to take crap than it was to dish it out.

"You... gonna hurt..." He ended the eloquently structured declaration by directing a choking motion at her with his hands.

"Me woman. Work. You pest. Go 'way."

A short silence followed the mockingly grunted syllables, interrupted only by the soft swish of the merchandise around them being shifted. In the lull, Hwoarang's agitation faded, replaced by the urge to taunt that had fueled the days bickering.

"You just wait, Ostrich. One day I'm going to take your cruel, cruel words to heart and stop showing up. And you're gonna miss me."

"Don't be so sure, dye job."

"Oh you will." Running his fingers through the loose locks she'd been talking about, he smiled in the arrogant way that Scar had dubbed 'the panty dropper'.

Faith watched with a deadpan expression, shaking her head slightly.

"Go help your Master, Hwoarang. I have a lot of work to do today and you've been a pain in the ass long enough. I'm sure you've met your quota for the day."

"Not quite... Besides, it's not like this is straining labor."

"I have other work. This is just helping out a friend. It's not like I'm getting paid for it... or for putting up with _you_. If Eun didn't need me I would have been gone a long time ago. "

"_Sure _you would have."

The sarcasm practically oozed from the words, accompanied by a very self-satisfied smile. Before another word was exchanged, however, the redhead turned on his heel and left, leaving a flustered verbal sparring partner in his wake. He smirked to himself the whole way home.

* * *

"Arrogant bastard," Faith muttered, throwing herself down into the chair.

Pulling her laptop forward in a none-to-gentle fashion, she opened up the folder of documents that needed translating and set to work. There was a deadline to meet, and she wouldn't let agitating thoughts of a cocky fighter interfere with doing her job. She wasn't at the shop so there was no need to bring the taunting home with her.

It was in that condition that Eun found her friend upon arriving home that evening. Seated at the table illuminated by the light of the glowing screen, she was tapping away at the keys and growling in obvious frustration. Quirking an eyebrow, the blonde flicked the lights on to make her presence known.

"**Jesus!"**

"**Good to see you too."**

Shielding her eyes as they adjusted to the sudden brightness, Faith smiled at her roommate.

"**You scared the crap out of me,"** she lowered her hand, blinking away the last of the stunned specks. **"So how was the rest of the day running the shop by yourself?"**

"**Fine. I can understand what the hell people are saying now, it just takes a few minutes to process."** Eun looked her friend up and down for a moment, pursing her lips. **"I'm not nearly as stressed as you. It can't be the translating, and don't tell me you're not stressed 'cause I can tell, so what's up?"**

"**I just keep screwing up on this transcript. I've gone over the damn thing seven times and I'm still finding errors."**

"**So what's distracting you? Is it a certain hottie? Mmm?"**

"**... Don't get started, Eun,**" came the warning in response to the waggling eyebrows.

"**Oh honestly,"** the Korean woman rolled her eyes. **"I don't know why you've gotta be all Sister Faith about this. He's hot. He's obviously interested in you. You, my dearest, are interested in him, protests or no. Quite frankly, I find it infuriating that you **_**haven't tapped that yet!**_**"**

Faith had to chuckle at the wide-eyed look of intense annoyance on the other woman's face. Thinking over what Eun had just said, she placed chin in hand to mull over the truth of the words. There was no point in trying to lie to the one person who knew her best.

"**I see you're not denying it, missy."** Brown eyes shrewdly observed the contemplative brunette. **"I'm not the smartest cookie around but I know my friend, and as your self-appointed counselor I think it'll be good for you to get a little hanky-panky. I mean, that one time after Melody passed doesn't really count since you were too hammered to remember much of anything..."**

Wincing at the bluntness of the statement, the subject of her sister was still a very tender one, Faith shifted in clear discomfort. Not only that, she didn't care to relieve the embarrassing episode being referred to. After Melody had died, she had gone to one of their mutual friend's parties, overindulged to 'drown her sorrows', and ended up making a very uncharacteristic and half-conscious decision. She vowed to never touch even a drop tequila again after that.

Groaning, the mortified woman swept one hand through her hair and held the other up in a stopping motion.

"**Enough. Point taken."**

"**So... I'm right, yes?"**

"**Yeah. But don't let it go to your fat head."**

Eun took a moment to do a small victory pose before honing back in on the subject with a devilishly gleeful smile.

"**Now to get you two _together_..."**

"**Shut up, Eun,"** Faith glared, regretting she'd made the admission to being attracted to the cocky biker. **"I can look at men, I'm not dead. That doesn't mean I want to jump his bones. And I'm sure as fuck not gonna throw myself at him. That would bring him far too much joy. I can already see that smug look on his face..." **she curled one hand into a fist and gritted her teeth, wanting to swing at the mere thought.

"**Well then, you just get him to throw himself at you. And then _you _get all the gloating rights. You just have to find out where he's gonna be alone and how to utilize his weakness. I'm sure you must know one of those by now."**

Pondering for a minute, Faith smiled at the thought of having ammunition to use against the redhead. She could never have enough of that as long as he insisted on bothering her at every opportunity.

"**You're evil, you know that Eun? That sounds like some kind of espionage,"** she laughed. **"I don't know where he is or anything, but I do have someone I can call to get that info. He owes me one..."**

* * *

Hanging up the phone, Faith smiled at her companion in trickery.

"**I smell insult fodder in the near future."**

Smiling back, Eun jumped to her feet. **"Excellent. I have the perfect outfit."**

* * *

It was already eleven o'clock at night, and the initial thrill had worn off of the plan. The leering of the taxi driver hadn't helped, and Faith found herself wondering why she'd agreed to ever do this. Eun put her in an outfit that could only be described as scandalous, and the brunette would have outright refused if she hadn't had the skills to deter any would be attackers. She had almost refused just upon seeing it, but said yes because it would indeed serve it's purpose well.

"Thank you," she mumbled to the driver, handing him the fare and getting out to stand before her destination.

The dojo was clearly still very much under construction, with equipment and some scaffolding still set up around the edges. The front portion was almost finished, however, and it was most definitely destined to be a dojo of great proportions.

Tentatively, she reached the door and knocked, unsure of the exact manners a situation like this would call for. She didn't exactly make house calls in the dead of night all that often. There were a few moments of silence before the a measured step sounded on the other side of the wooden door.

Quietly the door slid open, revealing a perplexed looking Hwoarang clad in only his white training pants. A sheen of sweat indicated that he'd been doing more than just admiring the architecture of the place.

"What are you doing here?" he asked warily, keeping his surprise in check and stepping back from the sliding door to add space between them. The actions of earlier that day were still fresh in his mind. "And what's with the get-up?"

Faith kept the answers to those questions to herself, taking his retreat as an invitation inside and sidestepping into the under-construction training ground. Still silent, she stepped out of her slippers and quietly padded across the wood-slat floor. She could feel her heart pounding in nervous anticipation at what she was about to do, and could only hope he didn't catch on to her uncertainty.

Pretending to inspect the progress of the building, she slowly wandered around the spacious area, keenly aware of the piercing gaze that followed her. The cool night breeze that crept through the cracks of the partially built walls tickled her naked legs, and the nervous woman truly realized how vulnerably dressed she was. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she spun about to face the handsome, and confused, Korean.

"I'm here to teach you a lesson in discipline since you insist upon being unruly at the shop."

Hwoarang couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter.

"Really now?"

"Yes really. Or are you afraid to try?"

The eyebrow he had raised incredulously at her initial statement lowered as he speculated at her intent. Narrowing his eyes, Hwoarang studied the brazen woman standing in the center of the dimly lit room.

She was wearing a _dop'o_, an old-fashioned overcoat that could be picked up in some shops by the more determined tourists who knew what to ask for. That is to say, she got it from Eun's shop. The dark blue garment had a high collar and long sleeves, making it a modest garment if it hadn't ended mid-thigh on the slender American, at which point her tantalizing bare legs began. It was obviously meant to be worn with a lot more fabric, but it seemed to be her only garment. And it aroused more than his curiosity as to why.

Unconsciously licking his lips, he forced his gaze upward to her face. Her side swept hair was pulled into a loose, slightly wild tangle of a bun at the base of her neck, exposing her elegant neck and the challenging expression she was now giving him. Her aqua eyes were intent upon him, waiting on an answer.

Stepping forward decisively, he stopped several paces before reaching her and smirked confidently.

"I accept. Any lesson in discipline you think you can teach me I've probably already learned. Bring it on, Ostrich."

"As you wish."

The seductive smile she gave him made his stomach tighten, even as he stepped into a fighting stance.

"Discipline, bike boy, not Tae Kwon Do. Now come her and sit down."

More puzzled than ever at the instructions, he hesitantly went to where she indicated, lowering himself to a kneeling position as she did the same just out of arms reach. In that way they faced each other, the moonlight casting pale shadows across the room and their features as it seeped through the pane-less window frames.

_'Now or never,' _Faith thought to herself, resisting the urge to fidget. _'There's gonna be blackmail for someone to use after tonight.' _Her thoughts caught on the possibilities of a positive response, and instead of fidgeting she had to suppress a quiver of excitement.

"What the hell am I suppose to be doing, Ostrich?" The edge of impatience was clear in his tone.

"One, would you **stop **calling me that?" she couldn't keep the bite of annoyance out of her voice, "And two, you just have to sit there like a good boy."

The last part was said with a lifted chin and squared shoulders. Clearly a challenge. What the hell it was about, he didn't know, but it was definitely a challenge.

"Sit here, huh? Are you going to teach me the mighty lesson of defying leg cramps? Or are you going to insult me while I resist the urge to throttle you?"

He had expected a reaction to his sarcasm, but an amused chuckle was not it.

"Resist? Yes. Resist the urge to throttle?... Not in that sense. You just have to remain seated."

Crossing his arms, Hwoarang gave a sigh of irritation. He could be on his way home to a good night's sleep right now, but instead he was... sitting. In a deserted, half-skeleton dojo. With a nutjob American. A titillating nutjob, but a nutjob nonetheless.

Sensing his irritation, Faith smiled to herself and waited a moment longer, just to see if he'd just get up and leave. When several moments had passed with nothing happening except continued grumblings, she inwardly steeled herself and reached behind with both hands, untying the sash that held her garment closed.

It took Hwoarang a moment to realize what she was doing, his eyes widening when they finally synchronized with his brain.

"What... What are you doing?... Faith?"

She simply smiled, gently pulling the silk sash away from her waist before beginning to fold it. The movement caused the garment to shift apart, giving him a teasing view of the form beneath. The now-intent biker felt his blood heating up. He then realized what his lesson in discipline would involve.

"You bitch."

The small smile that had been curving the taunting woman's lips widened, her eyes sparkling with laughter and something else he found undefinable. Whatever it was, it was affecting him enough to cause him to shift uncomfortably.

"Going to _rise_ already? My... you really do lack discipline."

Hwoarang glowered at her, his eyes shooting daggers at the way she had mockingly noticed his growing problem with remaining as he was. It was that sheer annoyance that he focused on, using it to calm the pleasantly tingling rush that was sweeping through him. The tactic didn't work long, however, as Faith coyly reached up to undo the tie in her hair, the silk overcoat falling open in a way that exposed a wide swath of flesh right down the center of her body. He inhaled sharply through flared nostrils, gazing transfixed at the way the sliding fabric rested on her breasts, leaving only the insides of the soft curves exposed. To his minimal relief, she brought her arms down again, shaking out her hair so it fell in soft waves.

Tearing his gaze away from the inviting peek in between the edges of the fabric, he stared at her face in hopes of regaining some measure of the irritation that would provide a helpful distraction. No such luck. The mocking expression was gone, replaced by one of coy flirtatiousness and... expectancy?

_'Don't cave. Think of motorcycles. And baseball. Baek's lessons. Training. Sexy naked discipline training... No!'_

Forcing his thoughts onto his motorcycle, Hwoarang tried to list the things he needed to do to fix it up and get it back to looking new. It was a losing struggle, however, as Faith continued to shift about, brushing the hair out of her face or sweeping a delicate finger across an exposed collarbone. Without realizing what he was doing, the redhead had dug his fingers into his knees as one leg shook restlessly.

_'Damn her. Damnherdamnherdamnher.'_

This was a test he had never truly been subjected to, and would never expect to do very well on. He'd rather be receiving one of Baek's long-winded and boring lectures right now than have his basic instincts being pushed to the limits of sanity.

Her nervousness gone, he most definitely wasn't laughing at her as she'd feared, Faith felt a thrill of slight danger as she watched the man in front of her grow into a tense ball of muscle and hormones. The thought that he could probably overpower her by sheer masculine frustration roused a feeling in her that limited past experiences never had. It was intoxicating.

Goaded by the thrill, she let one shoulder of the _dop'o _drop, exposing one side of herself from neck to shoulder and down to the curve of her chest. Hearing the trembling breath this elicited from her 'pupil', and noticing the ever-increasing rate of his twitching leg, she let the other side drop, holding the fabric so that she still had her more intimate parts covered in some semblance of modesty.

In the same moment his restraint snapped, Hwoarang felt himself lunging forward without really thinking of what he was doing. Grabbing the hands that instinctively shot out to push him away, he pinned them above her head, much like the time he had won the fight in their first meeting.

Unlike that time, however, he was not just experiencing an initial attraction and admiration. He was in a thoroughly provoked state, and he'd be damned if he let her get away from the ordeal untouched. Anchoring her with the weight of his torso, Hwoarang swooped down without hesitation, crashing into her with a lip bruising kiss that asked for no invitation and demanded compliance. To his surprise, an emotion felt only vaguely in the back of his testosterone hazy mind, it was given freely and even returned in intensity.

"Why must you torment me, woman?!" he practically snarled, tearing away in need of air. Before she could reply he had caught her mouth again.

"Because," she gasped breathlessly when he released her lips yet again, "you wouldn't know what to do with me if I wasn't tormenting you."

The only reply to this was a growl and another silencing kiss, although this one was softer and allowed her to fully enjoy the delicious tingling sensation that spread from her lips to the rest of her body. With a slight blush she realized that her minimal clothing had fallen almost completely open and lay spread out beneath them, which made it so that his bare chest was pressed against hers as he pinned her. It was only a brief moment of embarrassment though, especially since this was a much more enjoyable outcome than she could have ever hoped.

Moving from her lips, Hwoarang moved lower, caressing her jawline with the soft brush of his lips and back up to nip at her earlobe. He grinned wickedly as she trembled at his teasing bites, pausing to whisper while he was in that vicinity.

"Did I pass my lesson?"

"No. But you're phenomenal at failing," came the quick retort.

"Watch it, woman," he warned, biting her neck hard enough to elicit a startled gasp and squirm. "You're at this failure's mercy."

Before she could retort, he released her wrists and placed a hand over her mouth, focusing intently on the door.

"Get up and get that tied quickly. Someone's coming."

As Faith fumblingly grabbed the sash and tried to get it tied effectively, a mix of panic and disappointment filling her, Hwoarang dashed to grab their shoes and his jacket so as not to leave evidence of their presence. Rushing back the other way, he snagged her arm and headed for the nearest window opening, throwing the footwear out first before lifting and practically shoving her out. Hot on her heels, he tumbled out himself with a less than graceful landing.

"C'mon!" he urged, shoving his feet in the beat up sneakers before grabbing her hand and running off to hide.

When he felt they were far enough away to not look _too _suspicious, he stopped to lean against the wall of a nearby building. Pulling Faith into a close embrace, he let out a laugh of sheer, exhilarated joy.

"I haven't done that since I was a little streetrat!"

Startled by the intimacy of the hold and sudden rush of adrenaline, Faith laughed along. Unable to resist the opportunity his words had offered, she turned her face upwards and smiled mischievously.

"Guess you were just born to be a criminal."

* * *

Baek slid the door to his partially constructed dojo open carefully. He had received a call from a nearby resident that two individuals had decided to sneak into the building and were up to who-knew-what. That resident was unfortunately an elderly gentlemen whose eyesight wasn't exactly what it used to be, so he couldn't see exactly who it was from his viewpoint.

Looking around, the Tae Kwon Do master shook his head. He had a pretty good idea who it had been, and was already planning a lecture on what was and was not appropriate exercise in a place of learning.

* * *

_Just a smidge of spice. Reviews are loved and inspiring._


	9. Intoxicated

_A/N: There is actually such a word as 'singsonging'! I laughed... and then used it. _

_Disclaimer: The Tekkiverse, Hwoarang, and Baek are not mine.

* * *

_Intoxicated

* * *

Hwoarang glared down at the woman in his arms, a half-hearted expression that quickly melted into his trademark smirk. He was still riding high on the thrill of excitement from escaping the dojo, and it left him feeling even more daring than usual. His fingers were practically twitching in anticipation with the opportunity the moment was presenting.

Faith, oblivious to his mental perving, had settled comfortably against his chest, an unconscious reaction to being pulled close in the cool weather. Her scant attire didn't help in keeping warm either. Or so she reasoned. To him, however, it was a tempting move that left a gap in her usual defenses.

With thoughts of their far-from-chaste encounter still fresh enough to taste, the redhead slid one hand lower, watching with more than a little amusement as realizations lit up Faith's eyes at what he was doing. His enjoyment doubled as the realization turned into an incredibly hostile glare.

"Now, now... After that little performance, you can't justify hitting me for indulging in a little groping," he clucked disapprovingly, giving an affectionate squeeze to the handful of soft flesh he'd taken hold of.

"I sure as hell can!" the agitated woman exclaimed, attempting to shove herself away from the now grinning Hwoarang.

Unfortunately for her, she only succeeded in creating a rubber band effect. Gaining space with the initial push, she was pulled back forcefully into a tight embrace, her body pressed flush against his. Toe to toe and almost nose to nose, the American found herself torn between the urges to either kiss or maim him. Knowing the first would be the same as handing him victory, she chose a warning prelude to the latter.

"Let me _go_, Hwoarang," she growled, giving another experimental pull backwards. As expected, she was held firmly in place.

Hwoarang felt a flare of impatient annoyance at her resistance, but kept it in check. Considering his usual charm had zero effect, he'd decided that the best way to break down her walls would take a hands-on approach. His favorite type.

"Mmm.... no," he drawled lazily in response to her determination to escape.

In an effort to soothe the object of his attention, if only a little, he brought the offensively grabbing hand back up, cupping the side of her face and tilting it up to face him. Bright aqua eyes blazed back at him, and he couldn't help but smirk even wider in response.

"You are the devil of mixed signals, woman. First you act like I'm a no good kidnapper, and then you dote on me when I get sick. You leave without a goodbye or a thank you," here Faith opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by a finger placed to her lips, "but then you come back without telling anyone. You treat me like an annoying child when I find you, and then hunt me down and offer up a late night striptease."

It was at that point that Faith began to protest out loud, but was cut off yet again.

"Say what you want, woman. You can run your mouth all night long, body language still says a hell of a lot more."

Planning a scathing reply, Faith found herself unable to grit it out, and not because of the actions of her temporary captor. Lying obviously wouldn't help at this point, so instead she tried pushing away from him yet again. This time the grip holding her in place loosened, and the sudden release made her stumble.

Catching her balance, the lightly dressed shopkeep took several steps down the deserted street, her back to the man staring after her. Crossing her arms in a pitiful attempt to keep warm, it was a lot colder out without a big, firm body to sink against, she glanced over her shoulder at Hwoarang. His face had set in that infuriatingly unreadable expression.

"Look," she turned back around but kept the distance between them, "I'm not just going to go falling into your arms like some hussy in a romance novel," she ignored the quirked eyebrow that statement received, "That's just not how I am. Tonight was more of a... _dare_ than anything. I didn't expect it to go so far."

It wasn't a lie. It wasn't exactly the whole truth, considering she had almost hoped it would escalate before getting the cold feet she was exhibiting now, but it wasn't a lie.

"_Reeeaaaally._"

Faith felt like flinching at the gratingly drawn out syllables. The barely contained anger that single word held was nothing compared to the look he was giving her. The unreadable expression he'd held had faltered, revealing a stung and insulted reaction to her words.

"Hwoarang that's not what..."

She got no further as a pair of blazing headlights suddenly lit up the street and headed straight towards them. Shielding her eyes from the glare, Faith watched as the taxi approached and pulled to a stop beside the motionless biker on the sidewalk. The rear door of the vehicle opened, and a rather severe looking man with a salt-and-pepper ponytail emerged.

"Hwoarang! "

In one fluid, automatic movement, the redhead turned towards his mentor's authoritative voice and gave a small bow. Following the unspoken command, he sensed a serious verbal assault in the near future, he moved to get into the car on the other side, but was deterred by yet another command, this one softly spoken.

"And the girl. She can't walk home alone.... especially not in _that._"

Ignoring the implications hidden in those words, Hwoarang gave another, stiffer, bow before grinding his teeth and turning back towards Faith. She'd turned away when she saw him go for the door handle, but it took the leggy Korean only a few strides to reach her and catch her elbow in a less than gentle manner.

"Baek's giving you a ride home."

Wrenching her arm out of the rough hold, Faith looked past him to the older man still waiting patiently. He nodded politely to her, a gesture she returned with more than a touch of respect.

"So that's Baek Doo San?"

"Yeah," came the flat reply, "Now let's go."

Not bothering to take a hold of her again, Hwoarang went back to the taxi and held the rear passenger door open expectantly. At least she figured it was expectantly. His expression was as telling as that of a corpse.

Unconsciously squaring her shoulders, the shivering woman accepted the Tae Kwon Do master's invitation and tried to ignore the indifference she was experiencing from his coldly courteous pupil. She regretted the decision within minutes.

The ride to her place turned out to be the ten most awkward minutes of her life.

Settling down on the lumpy seat and telling the driver her address, she found herself sandwiched between two stoically close-mouthed Koreans: Baek, radiating a regal, intimidating quiet, and Hwoarang, who exhibited a very blatant, tight lipped exercise in the art of the silent treatment.

Unwilling to shatter the stillness that even the driver seemed to be enforcing, Faith used the time to study the younger of her fellow passengers from the corner of her eye.

Oh did he look _furious_.

This was no scowling pissfit brought on by harsh ribbing; this was full blown seething. The redhead's posture was a study in tension, with a ramrod straight back offset by rigid shoulders. His jaw was clenched so tightly it made the tendons in his neck stand out, full lips, usually set in a perpetual smirk, pressed together in a bloodless white line below smoldering eyes and furrowed brows.

For one unthinking moment, she felt like reaching up and stroking the taut musculature to ease the outstanding tendons and smooth the upset lines that now carved his forehead. And then she remembered where she was and who was seated on her other side. Doing that might be just a _little _awkward.

Repressing the sudden impulse, and wishing she could have finished speaking her thoughts when it had been just the two of them, Faith tried not to shift uncomfortably. She wanted desperately, much to her internal chagrin, to finish her explanation and to alleviate the angry strain that had suddenly sprung up between them.

She'd hurt his delicate male ego, there was no other way to account for his reaction, and while the intent of so many past insults had been aimed to irritate, this was definitely not one of those times. She hadn't even been trying this time!

Damn the taxi driver and his terrible timing.

She was still dwelling on that thought when they arrived outside her building.

The American's departure from the vehicle was as chilly as the invitation had been. Free from the confines of the backseat, she bowed politely to Baek and brushed past Hwoarang, who'd slid out first to clear the way. Standing with arms crossed, he refused to look at her, even when she stood facing him.

"Hwo-"

He completely ignored her, turning on his heel to sling himself gracefully back into the cab. The last thing she heard from him was the slamming of the taxi door and the rev of the engine as it sped both master and pupil away.

Heaving a heavy sigh, Faith folded her arms and watched the taillights grow smaller until they turned a corner. Shaking her head, she braced herself for the Eun Interrogation that was waiting inside.

* * *

Glancing over his shoulder, Baek watched the woman's form grow smaller as she stood on the sidewalk watching them leave. Turning his eyes to Hwoarang, he stalled the scolding he'd prepared. The younger man looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on too many times and was ready to strike at the slightest provocation. He'd never seen his student worked up over any woman, and so decided to test the waters.

"Nice legs," he observed, still observing the redhead from the corner of his eyes.

It took Hwoarang a moment to figure out what his master was talking about. When the realization sank in, a wave of surprise hit him. Baek never talked about women. At least not to him.

"Oh... uh... yeah."

It didn't matter that he was angry at the subject of their conversation, the sudden surprise left him with only the knee jerk truth.

"Mhmm..." Baek leveled a look at him. "And I bet you discovered just how nice they are in the dojo," the older man's tone turned more severe with each word.

The accusation cleared up the biker's surprise, returning the scowl to his face. Forgetting who he was talking to, his words came out sharper than was respectful.

"_No_, I didn't."

Noticing the dark look that settled on Baek's face, he quickly corrected himself.

"Sorry, Master. It's just a touchy subject and I'd rather not talk about her."

Mollified by the apology, he couldn't expect much more from his clearly agitated student, the Tae Kwon Do master let the subject go for the moment. After all, with Hwoarang's military release and doubled dedication to training, he had all the time he wanted to punish the smartmouth.

The rest of the drive was fairly quiet, with only the occasional angry mutter about a dare breaking the peace.

* * *

The dojo was finally finished, standing stoically in the waning sunlight. Hwoarang was impressed.

It's construction had moved along so quickly that he'd thought corners must have been cut to get it finished in such a short time. Looking at it now he could see that wasn't the case. From afar, the structure appeared just as dignified and intimidating as the previous dojo had. Moving in closer through the orange light, he could see that only quality materials had been used, and all the details had been meticulously taken care of. His mentor would accept no less.

Sliding open the front door, he decided to see if the inside looked as nice. Baek would be displeased that he couldn't play tour guide in his new kingdom, but Hwoarang had never been one to leave his curiosity unsatisfied.

One small step and he was in, the walls reflecting the warm colored light from outside. Far from inspecting more of the building, however, his attention was drawn immediately to the center of the wood slat floor.

She was in that ridiculously appealing blue number again. Unlike last time, however, she looked appropriately bashful, kneeling in the center of the spacious floor and raising her lowered gaze to look at him through thick lashes. The demure display dissipated the grudge against her he'd been clinging to for the past several weeks.

With more than a little arrogance in his stride, he cleared his throat and sauntered over to where she remained motionless and watching him. Refusing to sit, he cocked his head questioningly at the woman below him. To his surprise, Faith reached up to take his hand instead of speaking, pulling gently downward with a pout. It seemed like she was returning the silent treatment he'd given her, but in a far cuter way.

Deciding to concede, he slowly bent down until his knees touched the floor. No sooner had he lowered himself than he found he had a lap full of Faith. She had pounced on him, draping herself across his lap and linking her arms around his neck. Pushing as close as possible she finally spoke to him, her voice a breathy whisper.

"Hwoarang, I want you. I want you to... _wake up. Wake up, Hwoarang..._"

Groaning, the redhead rolled over, trying futilely to keep a grasp on the wisps of the quickly fading scene around him. But it dissolved anyway, leaving him with only the red-tinted darkness of light shining through closed eyelids.

"Been dreamin' about me again?"

He turned to the purring voice, cracking his eyes open to greet the late morning sunshine and the woman who'd been speaking to him. Instead of the clear aqua eyes he'd been mentally locked with, the face inches from his held two deep brown, almost black, orbs, the edges around them smudged with makeup not washed off the night before. He groaned again.

"Hyun-Ok."

He said the name flatly, the same way one might curse the crappy weather.

"Well that's an awesome 'good morning'. Dickhead."

The biker was expecting the punch to the ribs and so didn't flinch in the slightest. Not that it really would have hurt if he hadn't been prepared for it.

"Don't test me, Hyun-Ok. I'm not in the mood."

"That's not what you said last niiiiight."

It was difficult, but Hwoarang managed to rein in the desire to shove the singsonging woman right off the bed. Instead, he focused on de-tangling the sheets from around his waist and escaping from the bed and it's smarmy female occupant. The need to wash away the morning after smell of stale sweat and cheap perfume was suddenly overwhelming and fueled his speedy rush for the shower.

Pretending not to hear the dark-haired woman's irritated hiss behind him, the ruffled biker made a beeline for the sanctuary of his bathroom. Positive that there weren't going to be any mid-lathering surprises, a double check of the lock ensured that, he allowed his mind to drift back to the now hazy images he'd been enjoying before waking up.

As the hot water and soap scent refreshed and reanimated both senses and body for the upcoming day, Hwoarang's mind was still stuck in the night and beyond. Drifting mentally, he left the charms of fantasy for the more solid memories of flesh and blood experience. The tickle of silk fabric, the warm press of skin, and that irresistible mix of coyness and seduction...

"_**Fuck!**_"

The exclamation was followed by a hollow thud as a half melted bar of soap slammed into the shower wall. The redhead glared at the slippery nugget as it slid back to rest against his foot. It wasn't really the soap he felt like raging against, that poor lump just happened to be on hand to commit violence against.

The alley cat had seeped into his subconscious, and damnit, it pissed him off! What right did she have to go filling his dreams with her teasing, even after he'd cut off speaking to her for a month? Even after he'd spent almost every night of said month relieving his built up sexual frustration with Hyun-Ok? Even after he'd refused to rise to the bait when she'd told him, via Scar, to stop being butthurt over nothing and talk to her?

"Complete bullshit," he muttered, vigorously shampooing.

Whatever the redhead consciously thought of the situation, his dreams were still taunting and bringing back unwanted feelings. They'd been sporadic initially, but for four nights in a row now they'd come sneaking up on him, high blood-alcohol levels or no. Even without being physically present the woman seemed determined to torture him and deny such small comforts as passing out drunk and blissfully blank.

The more he stewed on the subject, the angrier he got. By the time the last bubbles had swept down the drain he was snarling to himself.

"This is fucked up. I'm just going to go over there, tell her to fuck off to her face, and end this for good."

Feeling pumped by the decision and the peace of mind it would bring, whatever the results, Hwoarang returned to his bedroom. So intent was he on imagining possible scenarios for the upcoming confrontation that he didn't snap even once at Hyun-Ok as she alternately lounged around and vied for his attention for the rest of the early afternoon. He had more important things to think about than the woman who imagined herself to now be queen of _his _domain.

* * *

"She's not here."

Hwoarang glared at the glowering woman through the cracked open door.

"When is she going to be back then, woman?"

"She's not _coming back_, asshole. Her flight back to the states left this morning. Now kindly fuck off and die."

The door closed in his face with clicking finality, but the redhead stood staring at that plain wooden surface and it's equally plain number plate for several minutes, processing the information.

Back to the states? As in, the United States? She was gone? And Eun had told him to fuck off... wasn't that his line for the day?

Shaking his head and feeling a little taken aback by the abrupt declaration, he headed back downstairs to collect his reacquired bike and the muddle that was currently representing his thoughts.

As he straddled the tangible of the two assets where he'd last seen the woman in his dreams, he let out a cheerless sigh. Not only would he be unable to enjoy the clash he'd been anticipating since showering today; now he'd be unable to ever track the woman down and speak his piece.

_'This must be that resolution crap the psychobabblers are always going on about. How it's important for people to resolve their issues. They might have a point,' _he thought bitterly.

If the day continued on at this rate, his night on the town with the gang wasn't going to be much fun. Not with so full a head.

* * *

A light rain had started outside, reflecting the mood of the second floor hallway in a tucked away apartment building.

Faith stood in the doorway of her most recent home, looking damp and extremely put out as she waited for her bubbly friend to answer her knocking. When said door finally opened, the blonde occupant grinned from ear to ear at the would-be traveler.

"They canceled the flight. Apparently there will no direct flights to the United States until the airline officials decide it's safe enough fly without the chance of getting shot down. So I was wondering if I could have my room back until I figure out a way to flight hop home."

"Honey, you already _are _home!... Now let's celebrate!"

Faith failed to share in her companion's sheer exuberance, but cracked a smile nonetheless. She set her luggage down and listened warily to the stream of excited chatter about what possibilities the night now held. Personally, she just wanted to start finding connecting flights to New York and book them, but the chances of that happening were growing slimmer with every moment that passed with Eun's own growingly devious plans. Expecting the worst, she sat down to wait for the final verdict.

* * *

"Come on, man! We haven't had a night out with the _whole_ gang in forever! The least you could do is look like you're enjoying it! I mean, booze and hot chicks! What's not to smile about?!"

Hwoarang grinned crookedly at the man, a longtime party buddy who'd suddenly popped up on the barstool next to him, but the expression only lasted long enough for the enthusiastic drunk to slap him heartily on the back and stagger back to the dance floor. As soon as he was sure his comrade was once again enthralled by the throbbing music and bouncing females, the leader's expression sobered.

Turning back to the bar, he slouched forward and sipped his drink, barely tasting the potent liquor as it sustained his buzz. Normally he'd be as hammered as his friends at this point, the club was their fourth and final destination for the night, but he hadn't been able to muster up the enthusiasm to get plastered. Carefree drunkenness just didn't sound like as much fun as it usually did.

It was this uncharacteristic restraint that had caught his companions' attention and had them harassing him at any given opportunity. They'd seen him in a bad mood before, and had learned to stay out of the way during such times, but found it hard to believe that the Blood Talon was refusing both beautiful women and the free drinks they sent his way. It was unheard of. By all the usual standards, he was being a stick-in-the-mud.

In response to this, most of the guys had either joked with him about turning into a pansy or pointed out the most attractive women in hopes of loosening him up and luring him away from his barstool. Despite such efforts, only the girls of the gang had been able to pull him away for a few dances. Several times he snubbed Hyun-Ok in favor of the twins, a burn that didn't go unnoticed and which spurred the vixen to attach to someone more receptive to her advances. Scar merely kept to the bar watching it all and giving his friend a knowing look.

"You're not fooling _me_," the aged gangster chortled when Hwoarang finally escaped from the mass of dancing clubbers.

"I don't have anything to fool anyone about, Scar. So yeah, I'm not."

"Ah... You mean except for the fact that you're moping around 'cause your alley cat skipped town?"

Hwoarang froze midway through grabbing his drink.

"What?"

Scar simply smiled in his lopsided way.

"How... How the fuck did _you _know?"

To that, the marred man took out his cell phone and gave it a tap. "She told me."

"Why the hell would she tell you? And why the hell didn't you tell _me_?!"

"Up until this point you've given me the impression that you didn't give a shit about what was going on with her, so I didn't bother. You already made it clear you don't want to talk to her..."

"I do now! I wanted to have a chance to tell her to-"

"Well it looks like you might have a chance," Scar interrupted, frowning at something past the redhead's shoulder.

Confused, Hwoarang turned around to see what his friend was talking about. His confusion only deepened.

The woman approaching the far end of the bar _looked _like Faith... if he'd entered an alternative universe. Not only was she here, instead of thousands of miles away, but she was actually dressed for a night out, which was a far cry from the simple jeans-tee shirt combo he was used to seeing. A teal off the shoulder top, a black skirt that fell to mid-thigh, knee high boots, and hair pulled halfway back but otherwise falling in tousled waves was her simple but dressed up look.

"Looks like they've been here awhile," Scar noted. Ever observant, and feeling far less shocked than his friend, he noticed the flushed cheeks and sheen of sweat before the change in appearance.

"Ah... What?"

"Faith and her friend. It looks like they've been dancing here awhile. Although what the hell they're doing here when Faith is supposed to have been long gone by now is a mystery."

"Yeah... a mystery..." Hwoarang, catching Scar's use of the word 'them', just then caught sight Eun trailing behind her friend and staring wistfully back at the crowded dance floor.

She didn't hold his attention for long, however. That was now reserved for the woman who now sat at the opposite end of the long bar.

Oblivious to being watched, Faith was relieved to finally be able to sit down and give her poor feet a rest. Dancing had never been her thing, but Eun had begged so pathetically that she'd agreed, but only on the condition that she got to have a few drinks first. That had been three hours ago, and she was regretting listening to her club-hopper friend instead of just spending a quiet night at home.

"Come ooooon, Faith. Finish that quick and let's get back to the fun!"

"Your definition of fun is a lot different than mine, Eun," she replied, taking a gulp of the mixed drink the bartender had just brought.

The blonde woman scoffed, readjusting her low cut top, "That's because old hermit nuns don't have a definition for fun. They just sit at home being boring."

Growling under her breath, Faith tossed her head back and finished the soju and soda mix in one go.

"Ooooh! That's gonna hit hard in a little bit!"

Slamming down the glass, Faith turned her narrowed stare to the gleeful woman.

"Shut up, Eun. You wanna dance? Let's go."

Without another word, the pair headed back to the mob of dancers, weaving their way through until they were tucked away somewhere in the middle. Completely surrounded, the anonymity of being just another body in the sea of movement was the only reason Faith agreed to go out. No one person could be picked out unless someone was intentionally searching, and no one could see that she was just mimicking the the general moves of others and pretending to know what she was doing. So far it had been working.

Even so, her tactics faltered when that last drink caught up with her like a blow to the head. Feeling suddenly off-kilter she started to tumble forward, but found herself caught and lifted by the shoulders. Staring at the well muscled arms responsible, she ruled out her delicately structured friend as her savior.

"Hey, thank...s..."

Skittering back in surprise upon seeing whose arms held her, she lost her balance yet again, only to be the caught by the same person she was trying to move away from.

"You're pathetic sometimes, you know that?" Hwoarang muttered, hoisting her back up.

"You... but how.... _Are you stalking me?!_"

The question came out shrilly, but barely got a reaction out of the zoned out dancers around them. If anything, their stillness caused more of an interruption than the terrified sounding accusation. Not even Eun, who had found a lanky but handsome partner, seemed to notice.

Hwoarang rolled his eyes, wondering just how many drinks she'd had to elicit such an obnoxious reaction.

"No, I'm not stalking you. I was told that you'd left and then saw you here tonight. I had to see if it was really you or just a look alike with more fashion sense."

"Well it's me. Now what?" she mumbled, glaring at him for insulting her ability to dress herself.

"Now," he spun her around without warning, pressing her back against his chest, "you dance with me."

She shivered as the words blew softly into her ear, the breath they rode on heating the sensitive skin along her neck.

Not waiting for a reply, he slid his hands to her waist and began to sway her as a new song began. The tempo began slow, as did Faith's willingness to move in time with the man behind her. Her reluctance faded quickly, however, as the gentle but persistent pressure continued to control the rhythm of her hips. In no time she was dancing of her own free will, the fingertips that brushed along her sides as teasing as the not-quite-touching presence of the rest of his body.

Frustrated by this, and buzzed enough to forget former inhibitions, she deliberately took a step back and molded herself to him, her hands reaching back to hook her thumbs in his belt loops to hold him there.

Surprised, and more than a little pleased, Hwoarang leaned forward to hide his smirk in her hair. This was definitely not how he had imagined interacting with her today. Or ever, for that matter. A slightly drunk Faith was obviously susceptible to the urges of the any other woman.

"Do you always get this frisky when you're tipsy?" he chortled into her ear, barely loud enough to hear over the music.

She turned her head to smile up at him. "No."

"Just when you feel like being a heartless tease."

Her smile faltered and her dancing slowed as she turned to face him fully.

"No. Never really tried to be a tease. And the one time I did... well.... if we hadn't been interrupted in the dojo... I wouldn't of pushed you away. Not really what a real tease would do."

Hwoarang was startled by the confession, but recovered quickly.

Pulling her close, he murmured huskily, "Come home with me then. Tonight. Right now."

Faith couldn't quite believe the urgency she detected in his voice, and attributed it to her fuzzy senses. Even more unbelievable, if she'd been completely sober, was what popped out of her mouth without hesitation:

"Cab?"

* * *

"Someone's gettin' laid tonight!" Eun whooped, practically cheering as she watched her friend disappear with her redheaded loverboy.

"I hope so," came a masculine voice from beside her.

Smiling coquettishly, she wrapped her arms around the tall man who'd spoken.

"Buy me another drink and we'll see what happens. My apartment's gonna be empty tonight," she added with a wink.

* * *

"He really told her off," Scar laughed to himself, watching the pair rush in a slightly stumbling manner for the door.

Shaking his head, but grinning from ear to ear, he ordered another beer and wondered who he'd have to haul from the club when closing time came.

* * *

God this took forever to write. I hate writers block. And I'm sick of reading this chapter, so if you find any errors, I'd be much obliged if you pointed them out for me.


	10. An Exception

A/N: Just a quick reminder: normal text in dialogue is Korean, **bold **is English.

Disclaimer: All things Tekken belong to Namco. And I am not making profit off of this.

* * *

An Exception

* * *

The last time Faith had been in a cab with Hwoarang he had refused to speak or even look at her. The tides had most drastically turned.

As soon as the cab had been hailed and they'd tucked themselves inside, he had drawn her close, settling her legs to drape over his lap and curving one arm around her shoulders. It was an intimate position that had the driver ogling them disapprovingly in the rearview mirror.

If she had noticed, Faith would have flipped the bitter, middle-aged man the bird and told him to mind his own damn business. As it was, however, she was too preoccupied with the sensation of lips brushing along her neck and lightly calloused fingers caressing up and down the back of her thigh to notice.

What she did take heed of, was that it was taking entirely too long to get to their destination. No matter how much she wanted to simply give in to the redhead's persistent attempts at groping, her sense of decorum still insisted she keep his wandering hands in moderate check for the time being. It was exasperating to keep rebuffing him.

And she wasn't the only one becoming frustrated.

The trip to Hwoarang's apartment from the club was not an especially long one, but to the biker it felt like an eternity. Not only did he have a warm, willing woman curved around him, it was the very woman who'd been infuriatingly resistant to his usually magnetic self. He couldn't help but feel a sense of victory as he touched her, even as she kept him from pursuing his more indecent urges right there in the backseat.

When they did arrive, whether it was after the span of minutes or eternities, Faith broke away from the alluring Korean for the first time since meeting on the crowed dance floor. Stepping carefully on the pitted cement, she headed toward the building's entrance while he paid their peevish chauffeur, indulging in a moment of mental clarity.

_'This is so sudden. Maybe...'_

The voice of uncertainty, pouncing on the lack of distracting physical contact, had no chance to plant seeds of doubt. Before she could truly contemplate on the haste of her decision, that contact was back, strong hands spinning her about and pulling her into a kiss that obliterated any thought that didn't involve melding into the man that held her.

Hwoarang's next move made her heart race even faster, but not as she expected.

The hands kneading down her back grabbed the back her thighs and lifted without warning. Gasping, the startled woman found herself leveraged between the wall of the apartment building and Hwoarang.

Suspended in a position that left no doubt about their intentions, with her skirt hiking up scandalously as he pushed between her legs to pin her to the wall, Faith felt a thrill of excitement overpower the embarrassment.

Reflexively she had wrapped her legs around his waist, the steadying motion evoking a growl from the redhead. Galvanized by the masculine rumbles and the feeling of coarse denim rubbing between her thighs, she tangled her fingers into the hair she'd so often taunted and kissed him.

The aggressive move was responded to in kind as the he pushed back combatively to dominate the pace again. The contentious move, far from being irritating, left every inch of her skin tingling in anticipation. The man knew exactly how to manipulate that gorgeous mouth of his, and she'd be the last one to prevent from having free reign to use it.

The wall-side dry humping may have escalated right then and there, but a rancorous voice shattered the pair's hormonal bubble.

"GET A FUCKING ROOM!"

Starting at the unexpected bellow, Hwoarang almost lost his grip. Awkwardly managing to re-catch and set her on her feet, he could feel the fumbling motions kill the mood. The expression on Faith's face only confirmed it.

He quickly scanned his brain for a way to stall, and without too much effort he latched onto an idea. Grinning roguishly, he wrenched the leery woman forward and, bypassing her lips this time, planted a quick kiss on her cheek. As she blinked at the unexpected placement, he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the front entrance of his building. He'd get a room all right.

Jamming the key in the lock, he cursed when it refused to turn. It was then that Faith spoke up.

"It's all right, Hwoarang, I'm-"

She stopped mid-sentence as he spun around, suddenly looking apprehensive.

"Don't go."

The words were more commanding than plaintive, but she ignored that, focusing in on his unhappy countenance. It just didn't suit him, she decided, reaching upward. Running a slender finger over the worry furrows between his brows and down to the tip of his nose, she finished the sentence he'd interrupted.

"I'm not going to run away. So don't break the damn key or we'll have to get another cab.

* * *

And that's where it ends for FF. I'm not willing to get this story deleted because of the content of the rest. So... I can e-mail the rest of those to those who may want it. It's adult content, however, so if you're not of age in your area, please don't ask. It's nothing that you can't find in a typical harlequin novel (only not as corny, I hope XD), but I gotta cover my buns. Sorry. :(


	11. Questions, Questions, Questions

_A/N: A quick note about the unposted chapter that goes before this- if you'd like the e-mail I need your address. Also, replying to messages from FF do not work. That's all. _

_Disclaimer: Tekken and all it's characters are not mine, they are copyright to Namco._

* * *

Questions, Questions, Questions

* * *

Rolling over, Hwoarang began to push the covers down, intending to stumble out of bed and shower before his brain caught up and told him to just laze about before training. The ambition to start his day was inhibited, however, by the soft yet solid obstruction that filled half his bed and blocked his path. His immediate thought was 'Hyun-Ok' due to recent routine, but the brown hair spread across his pillow contradicted the automatic assumption.

Leaning over, he brushed several strands away from the woman's relaxed face... and the night's events suddenly came flooding back to him. He no longer felt the need to get out of bed.

The act of waking up and investigating who lay beside him had taken but a moment. In fact, Hwoarang's smirk was still spreading when Faith opened her eyes, unconsciously turning towards the touch that swept across her cheek.

The groggy woman let out a small gasp, her eyes growing wide as her entire field of vision was filled by the cockily grinning Korean. As handsome as he was, she was still startled to wake up to a face only inches away from her own.

"Good morning, alley cat."

Her wide-eyed surprise quickly narrowed to early morning grouching.

"Stop calling me that, damnit."

"And we have the first curse of the day! I think that's a record."

Faith's frown deepened, her lips pressing together as she tried to think of a smartass remark in return. Unfortunately, her brain didn't start officially working until at least five minutes after waking up.

"Don't think too hard," the redhead taunted, leaning in to kiss the delicate spot just behind her ear. He got the desired result as she shivered, her expression softening.

"That's more like it," he purred, lips wandering down her jaw.

Faith knew she should push him away before the teasing went any further; before she lost the use of intoxication, as slight as it may have been, as an excuse for the previous nights enthusiastic abandon. But he'd already moved over her and the attentions felt too good to push him away.

Besides, it hadn't been five minutes yet.

* * *

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Hwoarang inquired, walking into the bedroom and briskly towel drying his hair.

Glancing up, Faith quickly averted her eyes. Did he _have _to strut around naked? Thinking it over for a moment, she concluded that yes, yes he did. It was all too fitting a trait to add to his list of noble qualities.

"Heading back to my apartment. I have to make sure Eun got back home safe and then get out of these clothes," she replied blandly, pulling on her boots.

"You could just call her. And you've already proven you have no problem getting out of those clothes here."

Choosing to ignore the bait, Faith got to her feet and headed for the door. Before the faintly blushing woman was out of the room, she was halted by two somber questions.

"You gonna just disappear again? Catch a flight back the U.S. and not tell anyone?"

She didn't respond at first, not quite sure how to reply. There really wasn't anything left for her back in the States except her parents, and she no longer spoke to either of them anyway. Going home just reminded her of Melody and the depression she'd gone through, while here in Korea there were memories of hurt _and_ healing. Eun was here, along with Scar and the other acquaintances she'd made, not to mention the man who was watching her expectantly at that very moment. She wasn't quite sure how to describe the relationship they had, one night didn't make you lovers, but he was definitely a motive to stay.

"I won't just disappear," she stated, leaving leeway for either option.

Glancing out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction, she saw his nod, and then continued to watch as he pulled jeans and chaps up over stout legs and...

"I can take 'em back off if you want."

The amused remark made her start. Absorbed in her peeping, she had turned and gone from unobtrusive peeking to outright staring.

"Considering I'm leaving, that won't be necessary."

"You sure? 'Cause," he began to unbutton his pants with a devilish smile, "I don't mind puttin' 'em on later."

His offer was met with rolled eyes. "Goodbye, Hwoarang. Don't commit too many felonies today."

"I make no promises."

* * *

One two punch. Flying eagle. Low kick, switch stance, and follow up with machine gun kicks. Doggie lift and snap kick. Push hands and then firecracker the invisible opponents ass.

Sweat poured off the Korean as he went through his repertoire of offensive skills, switching smoothly from one to another without pausing for breath. His white _do bohk_ clung to his form as if painted on, the tie to his pants being the only fabric to flutter with the aggressive movements. Even his bright coppery locks were plastered down, sweat-soaked several shades darker.

It had been a brutal training session, and Baek showed no signs of letting up.

Catching glimpses of his master, Hwoarang could see that the Killing Hawk was not done scowling at him, his face as set as it had been all day. Still, the displeasure of his mentor and the ruthlessness of the day's workout were not enough to dampen the biker's spirits or make him regret arriving late. The morning's activities had been too enjoyable to simply abandon for an extra couple hours of training.

Baek clearly disagreed. In his opinion, nothing was worth prioritizing over training, and nothing short of a near death experience merited tardiness. As such, he would push his pupil twice as hard until the boy learned once and for all that his rules were not to be broken.

"Again! Straighten those extensions and get those legs up higher! Higher! And pick up the pace, you're not a child. Stop slacking!"

Heeding the orders with a grunt of determination, Hwoarang began the sequence yet again, pushing himself to do it faster and more forcefully this time through. His body screamed for a rest, however short, and a drink of water to replace the gallons of moisture that seemed to be seeping out of him. He would drop from exhaustion before asking for either.

"That's enough," the older man interjected when he was satisfied with his students performance. "Wind down and catch your breath. We'll spar when your knees stop trembling."

"Yes... Master..." the redhead panted, bowing respectfully but resenting the insult to his stamina.

Willing his legs to stay strong, he picked up the water bottle waiting patiently on the floor and looked around the nearly finished dojang. Wryly, he laughed to himself about the early breaking in he was giving the fresh wood that had recently been so predominant in his fantasies. The reality of the building wasn't nearly as enticing as it's imagined counterpart.

* * *

"Come oooooooon! Why won't you spill!?"

"Because it's none of your business."

"Aww..." the bottle blonde pouted, thrusting her lower lip out like a disappointed child. "That's not how girlfriends are supposed to be. We're supposed to share stories like this... What if I asked simple yes or no questions? That's not too invasive."

Faith sighed, giving her friend an exasperated look. She'd been harassed from the moment Eun could draw enough breath between rounds of vomiting to form a question. Of course, that was after she had arrived home, collected the clothing strewn about the living room, woken up the unconscious naked man on the floor and convinced him to dress, kicked out the dressed man, and _then _hauled her friend to the bathroom to hold her hair back.

So all in all, she'd had a short moment of peace before the questions had started.

"I'll answer if I feel like it."

"_Yes!_ Finally!" Eun leaned eagerly across the counter where her friend stood making a simple dinner. "So! First things first... Was it good? Was _he _good? Was he as good as he _looks_"?

"Yes, yes, and yes," came the reply, a smile twitching at the corner of the reluctant informant's mouth.

"Ohoho! Is he a closet romantic or did he give you a nice, rough roll around? Does he make a lot of noise? Did _yoooouuu?_"

"_That_is none of your business."

"Pffff. Fine. But... What about the first question, mm?"

"Wasn't exactly a yes or no question."

"Argh! Do you gotta be so difficult about this? It's not like I'm going to go flaunting your private life to the world!"

"You would if you were shitfaced and someone asked." Faith ignored the offended look that statement received and continued on, "I don't like flaunting my private life, even to you. If I really wanted to share, I would."

That took the wind out of the eager woman's sails. She seemed to deflate, a look of dejection on her face.

"Don't give me that crap, Eun. You don't have to know all the details about everyone's business."

"Not everyone's. Just yours... Would you at least answer me one _little _question?"

".... Depends on what it is," the harangued brunette replied cautiously.

"Are you gonna see him again?"

Faith simply smiled.

* * *

Returning home, Hwoarang dropped boneless into bed. Parts of him hurt in ways that he had forgotten they could hurt. He'd always thought he'd dealt with the harshest, most rigorous punishment his mentor could dish out, but he had been wrong. So wrong.

Raising his head to look at the time, he let it drop back down immediately.

_'Food...' _he thought despondently, calculating how much effort it would take to drag himself to the kitchen.

Thinking was as far as he got, however, his body sinking gratefully into the mattress once it had plopped down. Mind growing as heavy as his weary body, he allowed thoughts of eating to slip away as his eyelids slid shut. The last thing to cross his mind was that the pillow his face was buried in smelled comfortingly feminine after a ruthlessly masculine day.

* * *

Standing in the immaculate hallway, Hwoarang couldn't help but feel wary. The last time he'd stood in front of this door, the reception had been hostile and the unfavorable news delivered bitingly. It didn't help when the same blondie opened the door, although to his surprise he was greeted with an amused smirk instead of a hate-filled glare.

The look irritated him.

"Faith here?"

"She's sleeping."

Hwoarang stared at the woman, confused. It was six o'clock in the evening, what the hell was she doing sleeping?

Laughing at the puzzled expression on his face, Eun elaborated, stepping back and signaling for him to come inside.

"She fell behind on her work and had to stay up all last night and most of today to meet the deadlines. I was thinking about waking her up when you knocked. Since you're here though, I'll let you do the honors. Her bedroom is the one on the left."

Eyes following the direction Eun pointed, Hwoarang saw that there was a short hallway with what he could only assume were bedrooms on either side. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the overly friendly woman, the biker made his way to the left-hand bedroom, quietly opening the door.

The room was dark and noticeably warmer than the rest of the apartment. Weak rays from the streetlights outside leaked through the blinds, barely strong enough for the furniture to cast shadows. Focusing on the faint outline of the form on the bed, the redhead stepped away from the doorway and allowed some of the light from the living area to add a little more illumination.

As his eyes adjusting to the dimness, Hwoarang felt a predatory smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Faith lay stretched out on her bed, dreaming away with her back to the grinning fiend. The blankets around her had obviously been tossed and turned in, their twisted lengths half-covering and half-ensnaring her. The scene was so peaceful that the Blood Talon couldn't help but immediately think up innumerable ways to shatter it.

He settled on one of the milder ideas that came to mind. Creeping over to the bedside, he lowered himself gently to the mattress and ran one hand, still chilly from being outside, down her spine...

_THWAP!_

Holding the stinging side of his face, the biker glared at the grumpily mumbling denizen of the sheets. As soon as his cool fingertips had made contact she had jumped, automatically lashing out in a blind but accurate fashion before curling away from the source of irritation.

_'What a fucking bear,' _Hwoarang cursed mentally, rubbing at his tender cheek.

No longer willing to wake her nicely, he grabbed her by the shoulder and shook.

"Get your lazy ass out of bed! It's six, you goddamn grizzly!"

Jerked to consciousness, Faith was disoriented and slightly panicked. The cold hands that gripped her were too big to be Eun's...

"What the f..!"

The starting string of obscenities would have grown as the bewildered woman yanked away from her 'attacker', but she was so effective in distancing herself that she began to slide off the other side of the bed.

Hwoarang seriously considered letting her fall for a second, it's the least she deserved for smacking him, but decided to catch her despite the petty violence. Seizing her by the elbows, he pulled her back to stable seating, laughing at the clumsiness.

Gathering her wits, Faith recognized the voice of who was sitting on the edge of her bed. As the pieces clicked together, the response was instantaneous.

"Would you stop doing that! I don't need the shit scared out of me every time I wake up!" the ruffled American cried, pulling a blanket protectively over herself.

"No." The definite reply was accompanied by a tug at the duvet shield, the fabric quickly being gathered in his lap until he pulled away from her completely with a final jerk. "It's too funny watching you spazz."

"Hwoarang!"

He smirked at the irritated exclamation, playing singular keep-away as she lunged for her covers.

"What's with the modesty?" he teased, holding her back with one hand and holding the prize away with the other.

"It's cold..." she admitted begrudgingly.

"Cold?! It's a hell of a lot warmer in here than the rest of the place!"

Despite the disbelieving tone he threw the stolen blanket over her head, letting out a snort of amusement as he listened to the muffled huffs and curses of aggravation as she pulled it off.

"What the hell are you even doing here? And why the hell are we sitting in the dark?"

"What are you doing in bed at six, grandma?" the redhead shot back.

The response was a high velocity pillow to the face.

"Ow!"

".... Ow? You act like such a badass all the time and you say ouch to a pillow?"

Faith laughed in amusement at the tough biker's yelp as he grumbled and got up to flick the lightswitch on. Blinking away the brightness, her mocking laughter quickly died, replaced by a wave of guilt. The area around his left eye was a mass of bruising and swelling, and the darkened puff of his lower lip made it look as if even smiling would hurt. Those were just the most prominent areas of discoloring, however, as a variety of smaller injuries graced his features.

Noticing her sudden concern, Hwoarang shrugged nonchalantly before flopping down beside her, hands tucked behind his head.

"Baek may look old, but he can still pack a punch."

"It looks like he beat the shit out of you!"

Another shrug. "Been a rough couple of days."

"Do... Do you need ice?"

Hwoarang snorted. "A little late for ice at this point isn't it?"

"I did smack in you in the face just now..."

"Is that an apology?"

"Closest to one you'll ever get."

The cheeky reply made him smirk.

"Fine. I don't need it, but you can fetch me some ice."

"I'm not _fetching_ you anything. Now get your ass off my bed and come to the kitchen."

Snickering quietly to himself, Hwoarang got up and followed as she strode into the tidy cooking area, standing on the other side of the island-like counter. Mind far from ice as he admired the qualities of her shorts and camisole pajamas, he was slightly startled to have a chilly packet thrust under his nose. Regaining his cocky smirk, he took it and held it to the still-smarting cheek.

"Thank you, mommy."

"Grandma and mommy, huh? Got a fetish for the older ladies now?"

"Only the MILFs."

Ignoring the lewd statement, Faith shook her head. "What are you doing here anyway? Had to harass me at home since I wasn't at the shop today?"

"No... I was gonna see if you wanted to go out tonight."

"Like a date?"

The dubious tone was matched with eyebrows arched in equal skepticism.

The redhead shrugged loosely, disconcerted by her lack of reaction. "Something like that."

"I dunno... People might think I abuse you."

"As if you could," the Korean quipped, half-smiling as he pushed back the finger she had playfully begun to circle in the air above his injuries.

Before the light exchange of teasing could continue, a third voice broke the mood.

"As much as I'd love for you to get out and have some actual fun, Faith, I already ordered out for you, so your ass better be here to pay for it." Completely oblivious to the dirty look the redhead was giving her for eavesdropping, Eun added, **"You can always have fun staying in with bruise boy though."**

Faith growled in bug-eyed response, swatting at the now giggling blonde. Dodging, the brightly dressed roomate flounced towards the door.

"I'll be home after two! Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That doesn't rule out much," the flustered brunette grumbled, still kicking herself mentally for not informing her roommate that 'bruise boy' was bilingual.

Hwoarang, however, had immediately latched onto the suggestion with a grin. "She makes a good point."

"Don't get your hopes up."

The warning glare she'd begun to give him was ruined by the onset of a yawn, and for the first time Hwoarang noticed how tired she looked.

"Fine. Instead of going out we can stay here and you can clear up some things I've been wondering about." Another eyebrow quirk response prompted him to add, "And you can ask me anything you want in return."

"Wow. First a date and now 21 questions? Keep it up and I just may start to think you_ liiiike_ me, dye job," Faith drawled out, doing her best tween girl impression as she leaned against the countertop.

Hwoarang smirked. "Don't get your hopes up."

She returned the expression. "Wouldn't dream of it."

With that, she sauntered out to the living area and dropped onto the couch, not caring if he did the same. A heavy thump on the other side told her he had.

"So you wanna play... what did you call it? Twenty-one questions?... or not, alley cat?"

Faith chuckled lightly, ignoring the use of his pet name for her. She found the fact that he was unaware of the meaning of the game adorable, considering he was such a ladies man. Besides that, she could retaliate with her own questions if necessary.

"Sure, flamehead. Shoot."

He grinned.

"You thought I was dead sexy when we first met, huh?"

Sighing, Faith rolled her eyes. This was going to be a long game.

"Wasn't really focusing on your sexy factor, but yes, I had a passing thought that you were attractive. You ruined any impulse to act on that thought when you opened your mouth though."

"But you still wanted me."

"I was more worried about being surrounded by a gang, actually. Why'd you help me that day anyway?"

"'Cause I'm such a gentleman," he replied, using his suavest voice. The incredulous stare he was receiving told him that answer wasn't going to slide. "Just saw something in your eyes, if you want the corny truth."

"The plain truth would be fine."

The remark was absentminded as she tried to think back on what she may have looked like that day. She'd felt more pissed off than anything, which didn't really strike her as translating into 'damsel in distress'.

"Why did you stick around afterwards? Taking care of me when I was sick and all?"

"I dunno. I couldn't really go far with my leg busted up like it was, and then you just looked so helpless stumbling around the bathroom that one day that I couldn't_ not _help you. Would've gone against my instincts to just leave you like that."

The redhead recoiled from the description of himself. He'd known he had been really sick, but to hear her call him helpless stung his pride. He immediately switched to a topic he was confident on.

"How'd you get into fighting? Your technique isn't that bad."

Faith couldn't help but blink at the abrupt switch of topic. The fact that he'd complimented her didn't even register due to the complete 180 in conversation.

"Uh... Well... I had a lot of pent-up aggression as a kid. It was a good outlet for that and learning self-defense. I'm a perfectionist with shit like that, so I had to learn it right or I wasn't happy. I can't believe you actually remember my technique."

"Mmhm..."

Watching her thoughtfully, he contemplated his next words.

"You should let Master Baek train you."

The invitation was greeted with a fit of laughter.

"Oh yeah. A master of Tae Kwon Do teaching _me_. That's funny!"

"It's not a joke. The dojang will open up soon and he'll need students. You'll just be a few steps ahead of all the new guys. Well, a hell of lot further along than a few steps considering you didn't get knocked out within a minute against me."

"You're really serious..."

"No shit. Do I look like I'm joking?"

Biting back a smartass remark about his looks, she contemplated the offer for a moment. "I'll need more time to think about it. Eun doesn't need me at the shop anymore, so it'd be something to do when I wasn't working."

That made him perk his ears up. "So you're staying in Korea then?"

"For now."

"Why are you staying?" he asked, leaning in close with a smirk. "Come on. Confession is good for the soul and the game's still on."

Placing a finger in the center of his chest, Faith pushed him backwards, switching their places and leaning over him. "Practice what you preach, bike boy. It's my turn. So... Why do you come and see me all the time?"

Hwoarang stared for a moment, trying to think of a snappy reply. The bright eyes boring into his own sparkled with amusement at his hesitation, which only agitated him.

"'Cause I wanted to get lucky," he bit out, bristling.

Faith was undeterred.

"You wouldn't have come here tonight if that was the case. And you wouldn't have paused if that was really your answer. Whatcha hidin', Hwoarang?"

"You tell me, Ms. Know-It-All," he growled, unsettled by how uncomfortable this discussion was making him. "'Cause if you don't know, you really should wipe that smarmy fucking look off your face."

"Ooooh. Touchy, touchy!"

Hwoarang was on the verge of getting up and leaving, but was prevented from doing so when she suddenly pinned him in, an arm on either side of his head as she brought her face close to his.

"You look unsure of yourself, Blood Talon. That's a first."

"That's because I think you just lost it," he muttered, shifting uncomfortably as she pressed closer. "What happened to being uptight about everything?"

Faith smiled at that, biting back a laugh and leaning in so they were almost touching. Breezing past the lips he had parted expectantly when she'd moved, the American spoke softly into his ear.

"Go out like you planned. I'll give you my answer on the training situation the next time I see you."

Pulling back, she hopped off the couch and away from him in one smooth movement. It took the redhead a moment to process her absence. As the warmth of where she'd been pushed against him faded, he felt a swell of indignation. Shoving up from where he'd sank into the cushions, he leveled an accusing finger at her.

"**You **are a cocktease! First you say 'don't get your hopes up' and then you pull that shit!"

"You're just overly excitable."

"Damnit, woman..."

The accused tease snickered, beginning to walk backwards toward the kitchen.

"Don't seem to be leaving very fast."

"I'm not leaving until I get my answers, and if that means I'll be here 'til morning then so be it."

As he finished speaking, he darted forward and scooped her up, moving so quickly she couldn't stop him.

"Hwoarang!"

Strutting down the hallway, it was the redhead's turn to chuckle as he ignored the protests of his squirming passenger.

* * *

_Can't say I'm particularly thrilled with this chapter, but there it is. Please excuse any typos or awkward phrasing, I'm getting this up before I leave for a short vacation with no net access. Also, there's not gonna be sex all the time, but this chapter is for those who don't want to read the preceding lemon. :) _


	12. Broken Glass

_A/N: I think I wrote this too fast. o_o;  
_

_Disclaimer: Tekken and it's characters are copyright to Namco.__Also! Some cameos! (Although they are not explicitly named.):  
Razer Athane and Seong-Hada belong to the awesome FF authoress Razer Athane. (Mind-babies!)  
Dai belongs to my friend Ashley, who is not a member of this site._

_

* * *

_Broken Glass

* * *

It was different, Hwoarang had decided, to sleep with a woman without _sleeping with _a woman.

It hadn't been his choice to actually discover the difference between the two, Faith had refuted all his attempts at groping with a sharp elbow to the ribs, but since he'd experienced both with the same woman he'd been comparing them nonstop. Glancing sideways at the reserved brunette walking beside him, he mentally ran over the differences yet again.

Instead of a wearying night of sweat and passion, he'd spent his night curled around her, face buried in her hair while being lulled by the sound of rhythmic breathing. As he himself was finally falling asleep, the sheer peacefulness of the quiet darkness struck him, setting off the comparisons that were still roiling around his head.

As if feeling the weight of his musings, or perhaps his stare, Faith's eyes flickered over to the redhead. Two thoughtful brown orbs caught her gaze, a small smile shaping the biker's full lips. Letting out a slightly nervous laugh at being scrutinized, she was compelled to find out what was causing him to act so damn cheerful.

"What? What's that look for?"

"Nothin'."

"'Nothin'' my ass. You've been looking at me with that little smirk on your face since this morning. It's making me nervous. You're plotting something. You've gotta be plotting something. What are you plotting?"

Hwoarang laughed at the sheer paranoia of the questions.

"I'm not 'plotting' anything. Relax, woman. Jeez."

Throwing his arm over his suspicious companion's shoulder, the Blood Talon pulled her close to his side as they came to a crosswalk, neon lighting telling them to stop. Faith didn't need such a sign, however, as her feet became lead the moment he'd wrapped his arm around her. It was so casual a movement. It was so public. It was so... _comfortable. _

Feeling foolish at her reaction, it wasn't like they hadn't done anything more intimate, she wondered what had inspired the sudden display of affection. It couldn't be just because they'd had sex. He'd mentioned many times having sex with plenty of women, no strings attached. Still, he'd continued to visit without the promise of future 'relations', and now this. Or maybe it was just a friend thing? Guys threw an arm around there buddies all the time and...

Faith shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

_'This is stupid,' _she thought, reprimanding herself. _'Just go with it for once.'_

Without allowing herself to think for another moment, the conflicted interrogator simply went with the first thing that felt right to do, snaking her arm around the biker's waist and slipping her hand into his back pocket. Not only did it feel right, it felt firm. A fact she double-checked with an appreciative squeeze.

Both biting back smiles for their own reasons, the pair made their way across the intersection, hips rubbing together with each step. They continued to walk in this way until reaching the intersection that divided their early morning paths.

"I guess I'll see you when you pick up your bike then," the words were half-questioning as Faith slipped out from under the muscular arm that held her. "Still not sure why you couldn't just ride it to the dojang, though."

"'Cause Baek hates it. It's just better if I don't mix bike and Baek."

She chuckled at that, imagining a highly irritated master as he pupil roared up to training every day.

"All right. I'll see you later then," she paused, still unsettled by the look on his face.

Taking advantage of her motionlessness, Hwoarang lifted her chin and planting a light kiss on lips. Several disapproving murmurs rumbled around them, combining with the giggles of two young girls watching them raptly.

Still lingering close enough to her face to be deemed inappropriate by the conservative adults around them, Hwoarang began to smirk, enjoying the small scandal he was the heart of, as well as the look on Faith's face at being his partner in it. The smirk didn't last long though, turning into a grimace and choked gurgle as he was forcibly yanked backwards by the collar without warning.

Ass on the pavement, the redhead looked up into the stern eyes of Baek Doo San. Dressed in suit and fedora, the master sharply contrasted his pupil, who remained sprawled on the ground in rumpled hoodie and jeans.

Faith, having observed the cocky student's downfall up close, was covering her mouth with one hand in a feeble attempt to hide her laughter. The look on his face and throttled gasp of surprise kept replaying in her mind, worsening the urge go burst out laughing. The image was too much, however, and some of the giggles slipped through the cracks in her fingers, earning her a glare from the ruffled biker as he got back to his feet. His hostility ended their, however, as his mentor began to speak.

"I hope you weren't planning on coming to training in that outfit."

"No, Master."

"And that you weren't planning on repeating that little show in public again. She may not know better, but I expect more from you."

"...."

The Killing Hawk narrowed his gaze.

"No, Master," the redhead gritted out, lowering his gaze.

"Good. Now go change and I'll meet you at the dojang. I have business to attend to."

"Where are you..."

Hwoarang's question trailed off, his master already heading down the street. He stared after the beige-suited back for several long moments, wondering what his Master would have to be doing right before the start of a training session. Faith's voice broke through the cranking of the gears within his brain.

"I really do have to get going. Good luck with the training, grasshoppa'."

"Shut it, woman."

Faith smiled, feeling an echo of his mischievous streak. Grabbing his shirt, she pulled him into a kiss on the cheek, the innocent peck wiping the smiles off the faces of those who'd nodded approvingly when Baek had arrived and brought the redhead down a few pegs.

"Are you _trying _to get me in trouble?"

"No," the still smiling woman began walking towards her own destination. Calling back over her shoulder, she added, "You do that pretty well on your own."

* * *

"Isn't that the same girl you were so angry at?"

Hwoarang started at the break in the silence. Master and pupil had been sitting quietly, taking a brief respite after several hours of nonstop sparring. The Blood Talon was feeling himself wear out already, although he knew for a fact that the older man was going easy on him compared to the last few days. Right as his blocks were becoming more sluggish, Baek had stopped and initiated the break.

Kicking his brain back into gear he replied without elaboration: "Yeah."

Since when had Baek became so interested in his love life?

"You didn't look very angry out there on the corner."

The tiring fighter braced himself, waiting for the lecture on proper public behavior, but it never came. The Tae Kwon Do master simply gave him a reproachful look and left it at that. The two men lapsed into silence again.

A few more minutes passed and the older got to his feet, stretching his muscles in preparation for the next round. Hwoarang followed suit, but stopped mid-stretch at the next words out of his mentor's mouth.

"Just don't let her keep you from training again."

"... Master?" How did he even know it was Faith that had stalled him?

"Don't forget that I was young once too, Hwoarang."

The redhead thought about the connotations of that statement, but shuddered and stopped before it could be fully processed. He'd rather not have thoughts of his mentor and his... youthful escapades popping up later during his own night of fun.

* * *

"I stayed in with you, now it's your turn to go out."

"Yeah, Faith! It's time you go out again!"

Faith glared at the tag-team against her, fighting the urge to back up as they metaphorically circled around, waiting for a sign of weakness.

"Does hair dye leak through the scalp and kill brain cells or something? 'Cause you guys aren't getting the message. You go out. I'm content here, damnit."

"Scar invited you personally. He's expecting you to come," Hwoarang reminded her, expecting that she wouldn't want to disappoint a friend.

"Yeah, but..."

"Come on, that guy has been super nice to you. You don't wanna be bitchy and let him down, do you?" Eun added, bringing home the point that the biker had left unspoken.

"... What is this even for?" the harassed one of the trio asked, her defenses starting to crumble.

Eun smiled, knowing victory was soon to be had.

Hwoarang held his own triumph back and answered, "It's just something he throws for everyone in the gang. Just a reason to go out and be stupid among friends. Plus, Scar knows the doorguy and a bartender, so it's free cover charge, and he's covering all the drinks at cheaper prices."

"But..."

"Give it up, Faith!" Eun exclaimed, becoming exasperated. "It shouldn't be like pulling teeth to get you to go out for a friend! Stop being a child!"

"I'm not...!" but she stopped, realizing how childish the argument really would sound. "... Fine. But you guys have to leave me the hell alone once we're there. No torturing. You've already dragged me to a club once already."

"Anything you want. I'm gonna go pick out an outfit!"

The announcement was followed by the happy blonde bouncing off to her bedroom, the sounds of her closet being rifled through echoing out into the living room.

"She's happier than you are," the biker stated, raising an eyebrow at the unhappy woman still in the room with him. "And I remember you're last club venture ending amazingly."

Faith ignored the blatant innuendo in his words and waggling eyebrows and replied, "That's because she enjoys clubbing. And because she's going to go now, invited or not."

"... What?"

The redhead frowned. He didn't particularly like the bubbly woman, despite their teaming up for a common goal.

"You got it. Not only did you just mention going out, you said free cover charge and drinks. That's like dangling steak in front of a lion. She's going."

As if on cue, Eun's trilling voice issued from the bedroom, "_I'M GOING TOO, SO WAIT UP!_"

"Told ya."

* * *

The night was not going as expected, not that she had actually been expecting all that much.

Seated at the bar with a sobbing woman on one side, an empty seat on the other, and a man who looked to be passed out on the bar just beyond that, Faith wasn't quite sure what to do with herself.

Most of the gang, which was slightly bigger than she'd originally thought, was already hammered and out stumbling in a fashion they called dancing.. Some sane individuals remained, most of them just the general club goers, but a few from Hwoarang's crowd as well. She and Scar, for example, had been having an amusing conversation on the qualities of the local clubbers. Another pair seated farther down seemed to be doing the same, if she was to judge by the grin on the blue-haired man's face and the flash of a smile that would grace the brown-haired woman's lips every so often as they watched the comings and goings of the others.

Mid-conversation, however, her marred companion had had to leave to settle a dispute at the other side of the club and Faith's attention was free to actually observe the crowds. She'd been so absorbed in talking and laughing that she hadn't been paying too much attention to the horde of dancers behind them. With the distraction of a conversational partner gone, she certainly wasn't going to engage the weeping woman in a light chat, she turned around to check on Eun, wondering if her energetic roommate had found her man of the night yet. Scanning the mass, it wasn't blonde hair that caught her eye, but red, and the dark-haired girls bobbing around it. Her thoughts suddenly convoluted, torn between brushing off the scene and getting angry.

Whipping back around to the bar and taking an enormous gulp of her drink, Faith decided that she really didn't care that Hwoarang was out there grinding against those girls. She didn't. Not in the slightest. Not even a little bit. Not an iota. There was another reason, a _completely rational _reason, why she felt the urge to go and stab the little hussies before turning on the redhead himself. She just couldn't think of it at the moment...

As if the thought of stabbing was manifesting in a backfire, Faith felt a slicing pain shoot up her palm, cold liquid dousing the rest of her hand and adding an intense burning to the original affliction. Crying out at the sensation, the brunette looked down at the shattered remains of her cocktail glass and the dripping mess that had been it's contents.

Staring for a moment at the chaos of glass, alcohol, and an increasingly large red pool spreading throughout, she suddenly realized that it was her blood dyeing the mess, and that the broken stem had been the reason for the open gash now splitting her palm. Feeling a flush of embarrassment beneath the hurt radiating from the wound, she realized that the delicate glassware must have broken under the force of her grip.

Luckily, one of the bartenders noticed the incident and processed the situation quicker than she had. By the time she was getting up he had brought over a bar towel for soaking up the mess and a towel for the mess she was still leaking.

Apologizing profusely and promising to pay for the damage, Faith was ushered to the bathroom. Along the way, Eun caught sight of the pair and joined them, worriedly hovering by her friends side and trying to assess the damage. Scar crossed their path on his way back from breaking up the tussle and also tried to investigate, but was shooed away by the anxious blonde.

As the women entered the dim lavatory, the bartender muttered something about a first-aid kit and scuttled off. He returned a few moments later, hurrying the desired kit in and rushing out of the women's room as if it were a toxic gas chamber.

Ignoring Eun's fussing with the plastic box and it's likely outdated contents, Faith began washing the laceration, making a face as she saw the length of it.

"Gonna suck while this heals."

"No shit! What the hell happened?"

"Just had a stupid girl moment. And apparently I don't know my own strength," the brunette sighed, wincing as she pulled too hard at the edges of the cut as she dried it with a paper towel.

"Stop having a stupid girl moment then," Eun chastised in response, grabbing her friend's wrist and applying ointment she'd found unopened in the box. "Go have fun. Dance with a hottie or two. You never know, you just might enjoy it!"

Faith shook her head. Having never been through what her friends had always disgustedly referred to as 'boy troubles' she still felt uncertain, remembering the warmth she'd felt walking with biker earlier that day.

"Last time I took your advice, bike boy and I ended up not speaking."

That gave the blonde pause.

"Still... You're not obligated to sit and have a crappy night. If he's not holding back than neither should you... "

Faith smiled, a tight expression the twisted into a flinch as her friend roughly began to wrap her hand with gauzy bandages.

"I think I'll pass."

"Fine. Be a party shitter."

Not waiting for a reply, Eun taped down the last wrap of bandage, slammed the little medical kit shut, and stormed from the bathroom, thoroughly frustrated. Shaking her head, Faith followed a few steps behind.

Finding a new seat, her previous one was still being cleaned up, the put-out patient leaned against the bar, chin in unharmed hand. An unfamiliar voice beside her spoke up, assessing her current state.

"You don't look too happy."

Turning to the source, she found a handsome young man watching her, his dark eyes curious.

Faith shrugged, brushing the comment off. "Just one of those nights, I guess. Should have stayed home."

"Saaaaame here," her new neighbor drawled, taking a long drink of the beer before him.

"Mmm..."

A soft clink brought her attention back to the bar, where the same kind of drink she'd destroyed now sat. The same bartender from before pointed across the way to Scar, who gave a smile and a nod.

"He also wanted me to tell you to keep control of your Godzilla hands this time," the barkeep informed her, heading on to the next customer.

Looking back to Scar, who was still watching her with a grin plastered on his face, Faith returned the smile and flipped him the bird. Tipping the glass to him, she took a sip and returned her attention back to the stranger as he spoke again.

"That was quite the power squeeze. How's the hand?"

"You saw that?" she felt another wave of embarrassment. "It's fine. Nothing that won't heal."

The man laughed. "That's good. I'd hate to be the one who pissed you off though."

That brought her mind back to the original reason she'd become upset. "Yeah," she paused a moment, thinking. "So why should you have stayed home?"

He smiled sadly. "Fresh from a breakup. I figured I should get out of the house, and that I wouldn't run into him in a regular bar."

That took her a minute to process.

"Ohhh. Okay."

She smiled when he winked at her for connecting the dots. The expression darkened, however, when she saw who was heading over their way.

Hwoarang, who'd been caught up in the crush of dancers, had broken free and headed over to talk to Scar. As they spoke, he had looked over his friends shoulder to see some random guy chatting up Faith, who looked like she was enjoying the attention. If he'd had hackles, they would've been standing on end.

Abruptly ending the conversation, he stalked over to where she was sitting. Instead of immediately going on the offensive, he noticed the new addition to her outfit. Reaching out, he turned over her bandaged hand and spotted several red patches.

"What happened?"

Faith jerked away from his hold. "Nothing."

"Bullshit. That wasn't there before."

"I just discovered that my aim as an emo would be terrible. Now lay off."

"Damnit, woman! _What happened?!_"

"I'm clumsy. Had an accident."

"That figures."

Standing up, she glared at him before turning her attention back to the nameless stranger, sparing him a strained smile. "It was nice meeting you. Good luck."

She heard a faint 'you too' from behind as she maneuvered her way away from the bar and towards the exit.

To stew over him was one thing, but to have him right in her face like he cared one minute and returning to ass-mode the next was more than she felt like dealing with. Unfortunately for the agitated brunette, the ass she was trying to escape from was following. In a quieter hallway near the door he grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Why are you being such a bitch?"

"I didn't want to be here in the first place! I came, and now I'm leaving."

"You were fine a little while ago!"

"Just fuck off and dance with your little friends, playboy!" she hissed, struggling once again to be released.

Far from letting her go, the redhead shook his head and reestablished his hold on her. He knew he was, drunk, but he wasn't drunk enough to be hallucinating the words that had just come out of her mouth.

"You're jealous."

Faith stared, her mouth falling slightly open.

"I... I am not jealous!"

"Yes," he angled towards her, "you are."

"Don't. Flatter. Yourself," she bit out in reply, finally shaking him off and taking several backward steps.

Smirking, the biker remained where he was, leaning against the wall.

"If it makes any difference, Ms. Jealousy, I would have danced with you if you'd hauled your ass out there."

"No," she jeered, "it doesn't make a difference."

He shrugged. "Then it doesn't. But just so you know, no matter who I danced with I wasn't going to go home with anyone but you... Later."

Faith felt her anger all but dissipate. Watching as he turned and walked away to rejoin his gang, the sudden drain of emotion caused her to sink against the wall.

Taking a deep breath, she straightened up again and found herself cursing yet another stupid girl moment as she walked out the door. She couldn't apologize yet, her pride wouldn't let her.

* * *

"What was that about?"

"Who the hell knows? _Women._"

Several nearby men added in their drunken grumbles or outright cheers of agreement, except for Scar who merely raised his eyebrows. Ignoring the disbelief of his friend and feeling validated by the practically unanimous support of the others, the redhead ordered another round for them all.

Downing his in one go, the frustrated biker began eyeing the dance floor again. He'd just been out there for the fun of it before, but if Faith was going to be a pissy little bitch, he'd give her reason to be....

Brushing past Scar on his way towards a particularly scantily clad group of women, he heard his older friends words faintly above the music:

"Don't do anything you'll regret, man."

* * *

_The end is coming. D:_


	13. Gravity

A/N: For those who haven't started reading recently, the minor characters underwent name changes: Foxie- Hyun-Ok; Sugar- Sun Jung; Spice- Sun Hi; Viper- Jae-Hwa; and Scar is still Scar.

**!!!Important!!!: This is the revised version of this chapter. I didn't like the first version. *cough***  
My apologies if you've already read (and to the two that reviewed already, thank you very much :) ), but there's quite a bit of change now.

Disclaimer: Tekken belongs to Namco, not me.

* * *

Gravity

* * *

Hwoarang was in about as foul a mood as he could possibly be.

Standing at the bathroom sink, he was scrubbing at the side of his face and the locks of hair that usually feathered along the side of his face, cursing the dried vomit that clung tenaciously despite his vicious swipes with a washcloth. Snarling to himself, he fought the urge to simply drag the source of the vile substance, along with his dirtied bedding, outside and simply leave the whole fucking mess there for someone else to take care of.

"Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!"

Wringing the cloth out yet again, the redhead imagined that it was the scrawny neck of that...

A determined knocking at the front door interrupted his violent musings. The images of throttling were pushed from his mind, only to be replaced by thoughts of beating the shit out of whomever dared to come to visit this early.

Stomping out of the bathroom, he headed straight for the source of the obnoxious rapping sound. Unlocking the deadbolt, the Blood Talon flung the door wide open and began to yell at the brave, or stupid, individual that had decided to drop by.

"It's eleven o' clock in the goddamn...!"

He stopped mid-shout. Faith stared in at him, eyes wide and knuckles still raised to knock again.

"That's a lovely greeting, dye job."

Hwoarang shrugged loosely at the sarcasm laden comment, slumping against the threshold as the anger that had been fueling him all morning drained away. Even thoughts of the disgusting flecks still clinging to his copper locks were temporarily forgotten as he assessed his unexpected guest.

"I thought you were pissed at me," he drawled, giving her a once over as he tried to think of a reason she would come to see him, especially after the manner in which they'd parted ways the night before. Noticing the loose workout outfit she wore, the pieces clicked. "Gonna take me up on that training offer?"

Faith responded to his sudden smirk with a cautious half-smile of her own. Opening her mouth to reply, she was cut off by another female voice, this one from behind the redhead.

"What the hell? Where are my underwear?"

Faith physically withdrew from the sound, her posture, which had been slowly relaxing as he spoke, stiffening into a defensive stance.

Jaw clenching, she grated, "Sorry to interrupt. Maybe some other time."

"Damnit. Faith! Don't be like that!"

He began to follow the brunette, reaching out to grab her wrist as she spun on her heel and stalked away, but a tap on his shoulder turned his attention in the opposite direction.

"Who are you? What district are we in? And what the hell is all over my face?! Gah!... It stinks!"

Head snapping around to stare at the nameless woman, it took every remaining shred of Hwoarang's control to keep from grabbing her by the neck and physically throwing her whiny ass out.

Sensing the unpleasantness of the attention she was receiving, the now uneasy subject of Hwoarang's aggravated scrutiny took a cautious step backward. The hostile intensity in his stare, combined with his sheer muscle mass, was more than a little intimidating.

"Get out," the surly thug growled, jabbing one finger towards the still-open door.

Showing some intelligence, or at least the presence of a survival instinct, the woman heeded the order and scurried out, the purse and high heels she'd found discarded on the floor clutched to her chest. Any missing undergarments were completely forgotten.

Slamming the door behind the second person to run away from his apartment that morning, Hwoarang growled to himself, reaching up to rub the back of his neck as he considered his options. He could catch up with Faith if he threw some shoes on now and ran out shirtless onto the streets. If one of the gang saw though, or heard by word of gossipy neighbor mouth, he'd catch hell about it for who knew how long. If he didn't, she'd stay pissy and he'd have to deal with it until she found something else to be angry about.

"Fuck that," he grumbled, imagining the scene they'd make on the street. She'd go off on him the moment he caught up to her, regardless of location, and he'd look like some needy puppy getting it's nose rubbed in the carpet. "Double fuck that."

* * *

_'Heeeeeey, Hwoarang! I was just...'_

Skip.

_'I'm shooo drunk right...'_

Skip.

_'Hey man, just callin' to see if you were free to go out tomorrow night. I invited Faith and that cute friend of hers along too, but she hung up on me when I mentioned you might go. It's been two days, now just fuckin' say you're sorry already. Women jump to conclusions and interpret things wrong all the time. We gotta put up with the drama, it's a fact of life. Deal with it. Anyway, call me back.'_

Chin in hand as he sat at the edge of his bed, Hwoarang deleted the voicemails, sent by Hyun-Ok, Jae-Hwa, and Scar respectively, before sliding his phone shut and tossing it onto the top of the mess that was his nightstand. He wasn't even going to bother checking the texts, figuring that most of them would probably be gibberish from drunken gang members anyway. That's what he got for staying home to actually sleep and recuperate from training.

Flopping back down onto rumpled covers, the redhead stretched out backwards, remaining that way for several minutes with arms tucked behind his head. Scar's message replayed in his head as he lay there, sticking on the part about Faith hanging up at the very mention of him. As that thought continued to bother him, the Blood Talon turned his head to stare at the phone on the nightstand, fingers twitching in indecision.

Sighing crabbily, he finally snatched the device from its messy nest and punched in the number echoing demandingly in his head. And this was what he got for thinking that that woman would show some common sense.

* * *

Still sunk in a dreamless sleep, Faith was completely oblivious to the phone going off on the kitchen counter.

Set to silent and vibrate, the black cellphone tap-danced it's way across the smooth countertop with every ring. Reaching the edge, it tilted precariously until the last ring sent it tumbling onto the hard floor, plastic pieces skittering away from the scene of the crash as it shuddered it's last dying vibration.

Faith slept on, a small frown creasing her brow as she rolled over.

* * *

"Fuck that, then," Hwoarang growled, chucking his own cell across the room and into a pile of dirty laundry.

He sure as hell wasn't going to apologize now. Especially over fucking nothing. Why bother if she wouldn't even answer her fucking phone to see what he had to say?

* * *

Readjusting his blue gloves, Hwoarang eyed his opponent across the dojang and shook his head. Baek had informed him just that morning that there was another set of new pupils in need of skill assessment placement.

Over the past week there had been horde of such students every day, most of which had been sent by the army. The news that the dojang would be opened within the next couple of weeks had obviously leaked to those higher up on the military command chain, and so Baek Doo San had quite literally found himself with a platoon of untrained recruits on his doorstep.

In response to this premature onslaught of enrollment, the Tae Kwon Do master had set each and every one up against his star pupil, deciding what level to begin their training on their performance.

To Hwoarang, the daily lineup of callow soldiers had been nothing more than a succession of breathing training dummies, the majority of them exhibiting the same ability a sandbag or lifeless Mokujin would. The only difference between the mean and the actual training equipment was that he had to hold himself back when striking the former. The restriction was a chafing annoyance, but Baek had ordered him to keep from inflicting any serious injury since most were only beginners, and those with some practice under their belt had terrible form.

Letting out an aggravated sigh, the redhead ceased his warm-up stretches and moved to the center of the training floor, falling into a bouncing Left Stance as his opponent approached. Looking the nervous boy, his round baby face was certainly not that of a man's, up and down, the Blood Talon waited for his master's signal before throwing the strikes for a half-hearted Migraine attack. Both fists struck the younger man full in the face, sending him stumbling backwards and clutching his bleeding nose.

Moving to knock the feet out from under the boy-soldier, the biker stopped at a signal from his mentor and backed away.

_'That was quick.'_

Directing a stiff nod of the head towards the novice now glaring at him over blood soaked fingers, he walked back to the wall, resuming his waiting position against the wall as Baek informed the match loser of his placement in the novice class.

Kneeling to tighten his foot guards, Hwoarang paid no heed to the sound of footsteps receding across the wooden floor as the other two men left the spacious room. Put out even further by the fact that the first of the morning's newbies had ended up being a total pussy, the redhead prayed that the rest of his faux opponents weren't as boring. He wanted at least a little spice added to an otherwise bland day.

Unfortunately for him, that wish wasn't granted until the end of the day.

Gazing absentmindedly out of the newly paned windows, Hwoarang turned boredom glazed eyes towards the door, the distinctive sound of it sliding open and the courteous greeting of his mentor indicating the arrival of the last of the enrolled newcomers. Listening closely, he caught the sound of a softer, higher voice echoing Baek's greeting, the accent strikingly familiar...

Striding to a spot where he could see over the older man's shoulder, his suspicions were confirmed as guarded blue-green eyes locked with his own.

"... You?" the biker's question was directed at the woman entering the dojang, but it was Baek who answered.

"Considering all the army personnel I'll be training, I wanted to have at least a handful of students without militant motivation. Besides, you told me awhile back that she had potential... Now, are you planning on sparring with that stupid look on your face the entire time? Or are you going to focus and get into form?"

Snapping his focus back to the situation at hand, Hwoarang quickly bowed to his master before backtracking to stand in the spot at the center of the training floor he'd become familiar with. Falling back into Left Stance for the umpteenth time that day, he watched intently as his newest opponent took her own starting position.

Waiting for Baek's signal to begin, the redhead couldn't help but compare the cool look leveled his way now to the glacial one he'd last scene on her face.

"Begin!"

Still lost in thought, Hwoarang was a split second too slow in dodging the foot aimed straight at his face. Knocked back a step, he immediately prepared himself for a continued barrage, but it didn't come.

Keeping his guard up, the star pupil found the newcomer watching him with a very smug look on her face.

"Feel better now?" he muttered, squeezing his fists even tighter in irritation at being caught by such a sucker kick.

"Not quite."

There was a challenge in her voice, but it lacked hostility. In fact, it lacked any trace of emotion. Even the smugness had faded from her expression, replaced by the deadpan countenance she'd adopted as soon as he'd entered her line of sight.

As Hwoarang felt his agitation at her impassive facade grow, Faith's mind was racing behind the neutral face she put on. Standing there in front of reminded of the conversation she'd had with Eun the day before.

* * *

_"It's just FFS, stop sweating it."_

_Faith narrowed suspicious eyes at her blonde friend from over the top of her laptop, trying to remember what 'FFS' stood for and getting the intense feeling that she'd blocked out the term for a reason. Lowering the screen and removing the comforting glow of words she could actually understand, the confused woman gave an inward sigh of resignation._

_"What the hell does that even mean?"_

_"First-fuck syndrome. Or 'for fuck's sake', depending on how you use it.... Anyway. My point is that you'll get over it soon enough. Just go bang another guy."_

_The lewdness of her friends remedy left the brunette speechless for a moment. When the shock wore off, she forced her voice to remain level when replying instead of releasing the scathing sarcasm that practically screamed to be released at such a suggestion._

_"That may be how you solve your problems, Eun, but it's not how I solve mine."_

_"Fine. Then you can just keep pining over that asshole who obviously doesn't care about you in the same way. You had sex, he got what he wanted, and now he's moved on. You should do the same."_

_Faith's forcedly calm stare became an outright glare, a sneer growing on her face._

_"I'm not pining, I'm just pissed. And do I need to remind you that you're the one who pushed me to 'go for it!'" she quoted her friends past encouragement with the most high-pitched and obnoxious tone she could muster."Besides, it's hard to put stock in your opinion when it changes faster then the procession of men that parade in and out of your bedroom. Pick a side and fuckin' stick with it already!"_

_"... You're such a bitch, Faith. I've been on your side! Do you know how hard it's been to push your sorry ass into acting like a normal woman instead of the shut-in you turn into when left alone?! So yeah, I did push you into going for it, because for Chrissake he's the only man you've shown an inkling of interest in sleeping with! Boyfriends you almost never saw and barely kissed back in high school don't exactly count when it comes to gaining experience with men. Don't give me that fucking look," Faith was glaring even more venomously at her friend than before, "because you know it's true! At least now you can find a man and attempt to have a normal relationship. And just in case you forgot, the number of men I parade through my bedroom is my business, not yours."_

_The two women remained motionless as Eun's last words hung in the air, their locked glares accompanied by pressed lips on one and a petulant pout on the other. Faith relented first, relaxing her stern expression and allowing her shoulders to slump._

_"It just sucks, is all."_

_The blonde woman softened at the despondence present in her roommate's voice. Feeling a sympathetic rush, she said, "Men in general suck, honey. That's why I never keep any particular one around for too long."_

_A knock at the door interrupted the beginning of the man-bashing pep talk, startling them both._

_"Are you having someone over?" Faith asked, no trace of insult in her tone as she got up to check who it was._

_"No... You?"_

_"Nope."_

_Checking through the peephole, she felt the small hope that had begun to grow at seeing a redhead outside die. Instead, she saw his second-in-command waiting patiently with hands in pockets. With a small sigh, she opened the door._

_"Hey, Scar. Who's... Baek Doo San?"_

* * *

Dodge the incoming right fist. Step away from the low sweep kick and guard the midsection from the kicks that followed. Sidestep away from the Rocket Launcher and send a kick towards his side. Blocked. Follow up with a one-two punch combo. Blocked again.

Even as the sparring match continued, Faith still couldn't quite believe that the Tae Kwon Do master had appeared at her front door, or that he'd invited her to train under him at the new dojang when it was officially opened. The fact that she'd have to fight against Hwoarang first had not been mentioned until she'd actually arrived, which gave her the sneaking suspicion that Scar had something to do with the personal invite.

Blocking with her forearms against a kick towards her head, the brunette gasped as she felt him grab her arm and press a foot into her sternum. The world suddenly did a corkscrew as she was flipped over his head and thrown back to the ground. Stunned, she stared up from the floor at the biker who'd finally released the grin he'd been holding back.

"That's called a Jackknife, sweetheart."

"Don't. Fucking. Call me that," she growled through gritted teeth, rolling over to get back up and taking a defensive stance.

Faith knew for a fact that that throw should have damaged her a lot more than simply being momentarily disoriented and left with with a sore back. He hadn't even attacked as she lay on the ground, wide open to a hit... He was going easy on her!

The thought irritated her, but not nearly as much as the thankful sigh of relief in the back of her head did. She didn't want to be thankful to him about anything, even if he was refraining from kicking her out-of-practice ass.

The last time she'd done anything close to training had been the last time she'd faced off against the redhead, but the bruising woman hadn't figured that would matter much in what she had imagined would be a simple skill assessment. A sparring match against a regular King of Iron Fist Tounament participant was another story entirely.

Trying to reign back her anger, which a grinning Hwoarang was blatantly enjoying provoking, Faith stepped forward and attempted to trip him with a low kick, but was again blocked. The Blood Talon responded with his own chain of attacks, most of which were dodged. The last two hits connected with her stomach, although they were more like love taps compared to the force he could actually put behind them. The dance of avoidance and half-assed strikes continued, until Faith finally began to get fed up.

Putting her all her effort into fending him off while he wasn't even breaking a sweat throwing her around was maddening. It didn't help that all of her own punches and kicks were easily knocked away every time, with the exception of that very satisfying first kick.

As they both took a step back in between the rounds of their martial arts waltz, she couldn't help but ask:"Why are you holding back?"

"'Cause I don't wanna bust up those pretty legs again," came the smartass reply.

"Fuck you."

"Anytime, baby."

The taunting, hitting just the right buttons, had it's desired effect.

Lacking form or grace, Faith rushed forward with fist drawn back to smash it into his face. The fact that he could stop that punch as easily as he'd stopped the others didn't really register until he'd already knocked the incoming blow out of the way and caught her by the shoulders. Using her momentum to move them both, Hwoarang rolled backwards, dragging her with until she'd once again landed on her back. Still rolling, he landed in the position to sit on her stomach with his legs pinning her wrists, strong hands crossed at her exposed throat.

A Roll without the Choke.

"I should so nail you in the nuts right now," Faith grumbled, feeling slightly breathless from the acrobatic attack and noticing the exposed position he was in. If only she'd had a free limb...

Hwoarang started to smile, another innuendo on the tip of his tongue, but Baek's order cut sharply through the now-still air of the dojang, bringing both of the younger adults eyes to him.

"That's enough."

Acknowledging the command with a nod, the redhead carefully got up from his precarious seat and reached down to help up Faith, who grudgingly accepted the assistance. They both turned towards the Killing Hawk as he gave his appraisal.

"Your technique is rough, you're sloppy when it comes to strike recovery, and you obviously need to learn how to keep a clear head when your opponent is taunting you," the older man flashed his smugly smirking top student a sharp look, "but you have plenty of potential for improvement. I see no need to place you in a beginning class to rehash the most basic techniques, but you'll have to put in extra effort to smooth out the kinks before you progress any further. Advanced classes begin at five in the evenings on weekdays, although you're welcome to come and train in the early mornings if you wish. I expect you to have a proper dobuk to wear during classes."

Faith listened carefully to the critique of her style, trying not to wince at the harsh honesty. When he'd finished, she bowed, more in thanking him for acceptance into his classes than for the criticism.

"Thank you."

"Mm. Our first day open is Monday. I will see you then."

With that, Baek nodded in dismissal. His students, the old and the new, bowed as he left to attend his own business.

Left to their own devices in the training area, Hwoarang pounced upon the opportunity to ask the questions that had been bothering him since she'd walked into the dojang. He was halted, however, by the site of her fiddling with the scarlet stained bandages wrapped about her hand. Startled, Hwoarang grabbed her wrist and brought it palmside up to examine it.

"You're bleeding."

"It's fine," she muttered, trying to yank her hand away from him.

Sometime during their sparring, the gash across her palm had broken open. Blood had soaked through the bandage along the line of the cut, and some had leaked out to dry between her fingers and along the outside edge of her hand. It hadn't bothered her during the spar, but the reopened slice began to throb as if realizing it suddenly had her attention.

Noticing her flinch, Hwoarang tightened his grip on her wrist and pulled her towards a nondescript door on the far side of the room.

"There's a first aid kit in the office," he explained, ignoring her growled protests.

"Let me go, damnit. I'm fine. Let _go_. Always fucking dragging me around with your goddamn handcuff-hands."

The stream of mild cursing and attempted pulls at freedom did not let up until they'd actually entered the sparsely furnished office and he shoved her over to take a seat on the edge of the desk.

"Stay there," he ordered, moving to grab a first-aid kit from a side drawer.

Faith snorted softly to herself, mumbling, "Yeah right."

As soon as his back was to her, the American quickly strode towards the door, but was halted by a reinstated grip on her upper arm.

"I said to stay here."

"I'm not your fucking dog."

"I'm trying to help you, woman! Why the fuck won't you pull out that stick up your ass?"

"I don't want your help!" Faith informed him, the volume of her voice steadily rising.

"Your gonna get it anyway!" the redhead replied in kind, his hold on her reinforcing his words. If she wanted a shouting match she'd get one.

"Just fuck off, Hwoarang! It's what you do best isn't it?"

"Only when the mood strikes!"

There was a moment of silence in which they simply stared at each other. The biker was the first to shatter the quiet, his tone far softer than it had been.

"I didn't do anything with that woman. That was just you jumping to conclusions."

"There was a disheveled looking woman in clothing from last night asking where her underwear were. I don't see how you can expect me to come to any other conclusion then that you fucked her."

The blunt accusation, though spoken in a level voice, caught him by surprise. He couldn't think of anything to respond with other than the truth.

"I was going to, but... she passed out. And then I passed out. So technically we didn't sleep together."

"Technically," Faith echoed coldly, crossing her arms across her chest and trying to shake his grip on her bicep off.

"You know, you have great cleavage when you do that."

"...... Hn."

His attempt at redirecting her anger failing, Hwoarang felt himself becoming irritated again.

"If it makes any difference, she wasn't wearing panties to begin with, so I couldn't have taken them off."

The sharp intake of Faith's breath at the jibe could have been mistaken for the hiss of a pissed off cobra. The poison she emanated, however, was from her eyes and not her mouth, which was tightly pressed shut in an effort to keep from unleashing a torrent of profanity.

Baleful gaze locked on the biker, who was glaring back at her in mounting vexation, the brunette tried to calm herself with reminders that he was not her boyfriend, and that by all rights they shouldn't even be having this discussion. It really wasn't any of her business... It really wasn't... It just...

Like a lightbulb suddenly switching on, Faith came to a terrible realization.

_'So much for being the sensible one. Just had to be a player didn't it? At least Eun has the sense to ditch them before she gets attached...'_

"You're supposed to be pissed now. Scream at me, damnit."

Startled by the rough-voiced interruption of her epiphany, the remnants of temper in her expression shifted to complete confusion at the absurdity of the demand. It was an unusual order coming from anyone, to say the least, but to come from someone who was usually telling her to shut the hell up it was downright startling.

"... What?"

"Scream at me. Have a fucking hissy fit. Hit me! Do anything, but for fuck's sake, woman, stop looking at me like that!"

"Like what?"

"Like I just ran over your favorite pet and then backed over it again."

Faith stared at him, horrified. "That's the worst analogy I've ever heard."

"It's what you looked like."

The way he spoke, a mix of concern and something she couldn't quite identify, guilt maybe, caused the brunette to unveil the smallest of smiles. The look remained subdued, however, as her inner voice of warning started to chant_ 'He's just going to hurt you, you idiot.'_.

"I really didn't screw her," Hwoarang reiterated, as if sensing the voice of doubt. His tone was serious as he spoke, his hand moving downward to take hold of her fingers.

Perhaps it was her new found grasp on her inner turmoil, or the fact that they had yelled at each other and relieved some of the tension, but Faith felt a spark of hope at his shift in attitude. She'd go against her better judgment and believe him, she decided, thinking of how Eun was going to shit a brick when she found out.

"I'll have to take your word for it."

The Korean felt as if his jaw would drop to the floor at the unexpected acceptance. Managing to keep his mouth from actually falling open, he felt the sudden disbelief and pleasant surprise vanish at her next words.

"Although I don't see why we've.... why _I've _made a big deal out of this. Your night life is none of my business. We're not together. "

"Well, maybe we should be. Because if I found out you slept with someone else I'd kill him."

It was Faith's turn to have a slack jaw, her surprise divided equally between the possessiveness in his tone and his murderous inclinations towards would-be suitors. Thoughts stuttering, she tried to find the laughter in his eyes that would indicate he was just joking and trying to get a rise out of her, but found nothing except a very uncharacteristic gravity.

Uncertain as to how to reply to such a statement, Faith didn't object as he closed the minimal gap between them and lifted her face up, kissing her in a way that made her mind go blissfully blank.

Hwoarang was the first to pull back and speak.

"Does that mean you agree?"

"I wasn't aware you'd asked a question," Faith replied, still feeling somewhat dazed.

The redhead smirked. "Do you want to have a reason to concern yourself with my night life?"

"Mr. Groupie King is willing to take himself off the market?"

"Mm... Just don't tell anyone. I have a rep to protect. If anyone asks, I'm going to tell them I was at knifepoint and you suggested it."

The brunette chuckled at that mental image. "Yeah. 'Cause I'm obviously so beefcake that I can overpower you."

"Obviously..... So?"

Making an exaggerated show of thinking on the answer, Faith wrapped her arms about his broad chest and smiled.

"I suppose."

"You suppose. Well, while you're busy supposing I'm going to fix that hand. Unless of course you're gonna run off when my back is turned."

"I guess you'll know if I do or not when you turn back around, Doctor Hwoarang."

Letting out a snort of amusement, the biker slid his hands down to grasp her backside.

"Just a paramedic right now. We'll play doctor later."

"Hwoarang!"

Her squeal of protesting laughter and his victorious chuckling echoed out of the small office and into the spacious training area of the dojang.

* * *

En route to a meeting with a military officer about the recent recruiting, Baek felt a sudden twinge of foreboding.

Chalking it up to the upcoming meeting, he settled back down into the passenger seat of the cab and tried to shake the feeling.

Still, he'd have lecture Hwoarang on the rules of dojang etiquette again. Just in case.

* * *

There is one more chapter to this. It's an epilogue, and it should hopefully be posted soon. :)


	14. Epilogue

A/N:

**!!!Important!!!: If you haven't read the updated version of Chapter 13, I suggest you do so. This chapter won't make much sense otherwise. :)**

This is the last chapter/epilogue. Enjoy. ;D

_Disclaimer: Tekken belongs to Namco._

* * *

Epilogue

* * *

"What the fuck did you do?! It still burns!"

"Exactly what it said on the box! Now shut up and stop being such a baby! I can't get this shit out with you wiggling around like that!"

Squeezed into the small bathroom in Hwoarang's apartment, the cursing biker sat on the floor, leaning back so that his head was within range of the running tub faucet. Faith crouched over him, working gloved fingers through his wet hair as red tinged liquid cascaded towards the drain.

"You're not very good at this. It never burned when Hyun-Ok did it..."

"That's because she never left the bleach in long enough, which is why you always had to do it _twice_. You're scalp's just sensitive right now. As soon as this dye is out you'll be fine. I'll even give it an extra rinse if you quit your whining."

"Shut it, woman," the redhead grumbled half-heartedly, letting the view he had right down her shirt distract him from his itching follicles.

Faith smirked to herself and didn't reply, ignoring both his pouting and the hand he had begun to sneak up the back of her thigh.

"I think it's almost out now," she muttered, still ignoring the creeping hand as she stripped the flimsy plastic gloves off her hands and massaged his freshly colored roots to see if any more pink swirled in the drain. The brunette bit back a laugh as Hwoarang groaned as she did so, much like a dog getting it's belly scratched, and instead shut the water off and grabbed the towel waiting on the counter behind her. "All right, Fido, you're done. Now hurry up and dry off. There's still training to get to in, oh, thirty minutes or so."

Grunting in acknowledgment of the words and disappointment at the removal of his groping hand as she stepped away, the freshly dyed redhead stood up and worked out the crick from his neck from having it bent backwards for so long.

"We've got plenty of time. Stop being a damn clockwatcher."

Faith, who at the very moment was checking her watch, rolled her eyes at him before exiting the cramped bathroom and turning into the bedroom.

Searching the floor for her dobuk, she reminded him of their mode of transportation. "That might be the case if Baek didn't hate your motorcycle. On foot we'll only get there in time if you get your ass in gear!" Lowering her voice, the newer of the Killing Hawk's students murmured to herself as she continued the hunt for her training uniform, "Remind me to never point out his roots. Jeez. Might as well have said that he suddenly developed terminal cancer. One month together and I make one genuine observation about his hair and he spazzes. Talk about vanity... Ah!"

Kicking aside a pair of Hwoarang's jeans, the high-strung woman found the simplistic uniform and quickly began to undress and pull it on. Feeling watched, she looked up to find mischievously sparkling brown eyes and an untrustworthy grin quickly approaching.

"The fuck you starin' at? Get dressed... We don't have time for that, Hwoarang!"

It was Hwoarang's turn to roll his eyes. Having lifted her up by the waist, he squeezed even tighter as she began to struggle.

"Relax, woman. You're gonna die of high blood pressure. One day that vein that gets to throbbing in your forehead is just gonna explode and- hey!"

The exclamation was somewhat garbled, as Faith had taken a hold of his face and pinched, giving him what Melody had always called the 'squished fish' face.

"Shut up and get dressed, dye job."

"'Ou 'e'er 'op 'ellin' 'e 'o 'ud uh!"

Unable to stop her amusement at his stubborn determination from lightening her tone, Faith shook her head and said, "I'll tell you to shut up whenever I like. Now come on," she released his face, "can you just cooperate so we're not late and don't have to stay an extra hour tonight. 'Cause I can think of far better uses for that hour."

The redhead's eyebrows arched up in surprise as she wrapped her arms around his neck with a sly look on her face.

"You've gotten a lot bolder as of late, Miss Used-To-Be-Shy."

Faith smirked. "I don't like being late... And I can be just as manipulative as you if the mood strikes."

"You wish_,_" the biker chortled, setting her back down. "You're far from being on my level. I'm still taking those waggling eyebrows as a promise though."

"I'd be surprised if you didn't."

Smiling cockily, the redhead changed without any further coaxing. Much to his female companion's relief, they were out the door within five minutes.

Setting a brisk pace, the brunette ignored the growls of the half-jogging man behind her.

"I meant it about the blood pressure, Faith. Goddamn. Slow _down_, woman! This isn't a race!"

"And I meant it about not liking being late. We wouldn't have to rush if you hadn't had an aneurysm over an inch of dark roots."

"Was it really at an inch already?"

"... Let it go, Hwo. Let it go."

"Fine. But only if you _slow down!_"

* * *

Entering the dojang, the pair passed by a line of bruised and staggering young men heading in the opposite direction. Recognizing them as the beginner's class, Faith spared them a moment of pity before turning her attention to the clock. Just in time!

The relief she felt was momentary. As it faded away, the brunette braced herself for what she knew was coming. Along the way she had made a deal with the biker, and being on time meant she lost.

Grinning wickedly, Hwoarang raised his middle knuckle and punched her in the bicep, giving her the dead-arm he'd promised to take if they were late, and that she'd promised to take if they were on time.

"Told ya we'd make it."

"Yeah, yeah," the now-bruising woman grumbled, massaging the sore spot as they approached their teacher.

Baek, having watched the entire exchange with masked amusement, crossed his arms and addressed the young couple, "You two are cutting it close today. I take it Hwoarang slowed you down?"

"How'd you guess?" the brunette asked, eyes widening in surprise at the older man's perceptiveness.

"Because you arrived together and he's pointing at you behind your back as if to accuse you."

Spinning around, Faith glared at the redhead, whose hands were conveniently tucked behind him. His innocent expression spoke volumes.

Before any non-training violence could ensue, Baek cut in, "Save it, Faith. I have to speak to Hwoarang for a few minutes. Alone, please."

Looking confused, an expression mirrored in the masculine visage beside her, the Killing Hawk's newest student bowed to him and stepped away, retreating to the far side of the training area as he and Hwoarang went into the office.

Inside the smaller room, Baek picked up two letters, one of which was already opened, from the desktop and handed the sealed envelope to his pupil.

"I knew these were going to arrive sooner or later."

Standing beside each other, the two men held near-identical letters, the only difference in wording between the two being the names typed in the opening lines.

"How the hell did they know where to send these?" the redhead muttered, eyeballing his invitation to the King of Iron Fist Tournament 6 with distrust.

"They're the Zaibatsu. I'm fairly certain they keep tabs on all past Tournament contestants," Baek replied casually, although a frown creased his brow. "This means we're going to have to increase our training intensity even more, Hwoarang. I doubt the girl will be able to keep up. I can't train you both at the same time when you're on different levels."

The biker settled back on his heels, lips pressed together thoughtfully.

"I'll tell her tonight then," he said unhappily. "Fucking sucks though, since she was getting good again."

The Killing Hawk quirked an eyebrow, but made no comment on the foul language.

"Does that mean you think we should just continue with training as usual for today then?"

The redhead blinked, surprised that his master was asking his opinion. "Yeah. I don't think she'd appreciate rushing here and then being told she didn't have to. Not that she'd take it out on _you_..."

Baek couldn't help but crack a smile at that.

"I suppose I'll save you a tongue lashing then and continue on as usual for now. You need to tell her though. We've been training hard, but it's time to increase the intensity by at least tenfold, especially since I have to dedicate time to the army's beginning class for at least another couple weeks. After that I'll clear the schedule up until the tournament and then we'll focus on nothing but training ourselves."

Hwoarang blanched a little at that, the lewdly smartass comment about tongue lashings he'd been biting back dying at the thought of future exhaustion and pain. The reluctance was quickly replaced with determination, however, and the young Korean nodded firmly to his mentor. He'd begged Baek to make him stronger back in the hospital, after that humiliating defeat at the claws of the supernatural Jin, and the older man had agreed. This next step was exactly what he had asked for.

"Yes, master."

Sensing the sudden shift to seriousness in his student, the older man clapped him on the back in a rare display of fatherly affection.

"That's later. For now you can enjoy the time you have with your little firecracker out there, 'cause once tournament training starts you're going to be too tired to say hello before you go to sleep, much less enjoy any extracurricular activities."

The redhead stared at his role model in shock, not quite able to believe his ears. Innuendo never phased him, he usually reveled in such jokes, but coming from Baek it was just... _wrong_.

Laughing at Hwoarang's expression, Baek left the small office, gesturing for the younger man to follow him.

The laughter, which was loud and uncharacteristically boisterous, had caught Faith's attention. Watching them re-enter the training area, astonishment replaced her suspicious stare when she saw that it was the usually stern Baek who was making the mirthful sounds. Her astonishment was in turn replaced with concerned confusion upon seeing Hwoarang's face as he followed behind the older man.

"What's going on?" she inquired, not wanting to be nosy but far too curious about the two men's unusual countenances to not ask.

Hwoarang merely shook his head, pointing lamely at Baek before letting his hand drop and shaking his head again. She interpreted that as an 'I'll tell you later'.

The subject couldn't be pursued any further anyway, because just as quickly as Baek had started laughing he'd stopped, his face settling into is usual severe expression.

"We'll be starting in Right Flamingo Stance today."

The two students exchanged a look and took up their stances.

* * *

"Gah. Sonofabitch."

Fumbling with her keys, Faith muttered curses under her breath until the telltale _click _of the lock informed her she'd finally succeeded in finding the right one.

Stepping inside, she was greeted immediately with a familiar teasing sneer.

"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."

"Hello to you too, Eun."

The blonde Korean grinned from her vantage point on the couch, raising rice covered chopsticks in greeting.

"You're home early. I figured loverboy would have you worn out and walking funny again."

"He's never made me walk funny," Faith grumbled with a glare, shutting the door and throwing the stuffed duffel bag hanging on her shoulder into a nearby chair. Plopping down beside her friend, she stole a chunk of meat from her friends bowl and said, "You're all dressed up. Getting an early start on barhopping tonight?"

"Nope. I have a date. With a really nice guy."

".... A what? With a who?.... Then again, your version of 'nice guy' is probably a little skewed, judging by your past choices..."

"Shut it, smartass, before I take your eye out," the blonde threatened, waving one of her wooden utensils in warning.

Faith laughed, raising her hands in mock defense. "All right! All right! But seriously... Who is it?"

"This friend of Scar's. We've met a couple times and he's really sweet."

"And you haven't told me?" the question sounded hurt.

"You haven't exactly been around to tell, honey," Eun chuckled, "And I'm glad! It's about time you were too distracted by a man to microanalyze my life. You seem much happier because of it."

"Yeah..." Faith looked thoughtful for a moment, staring off into space. As if realizing she'd trailed off, she half-smiled at her friend. "Speaking of which, I have to get some work done before Hwoarang comes over. Got a couple of deadlines coming up and I haven't even touched what needs to get done."

"Loverboy's coming over?"

"Mmm. He wanted to talk..." Faith saw her friends face fall and shrugged. "And he was acting weird during and after training, so I'm not really expecting cheerful news."

"Oh shit... You want me to stay?"

"Hell no. I'm an adult, I can handle this by myself."

Eun looked doubtful, but kept her mouth shut. Little more was said in the following hour, and the blonde had to be convinced once again that she wasn't needed before she would leave.

After practically shoving her friend out the door, Faith tried setting to work, but found her mind continually wandering back to a certain biker's odd behavior of only a few hours before. She became so absorbed in one such track of thought that a knocking on the front door made her jump.

Cursing, the brunette tried to bring herself down from the sudden adrenaline boost and answered the door.

"Hello, alley cat."

Glaring at the grinning Korean in her doorway, the 'alley cat' was about to tell him, for the umpteenth time, not to call her that when she was halted by a kiss. Not to be deterred from punishing him, even as he broke away and invited himself in, Faith stuck a foot out to trip him and was rewarded with a stumble.

Recovering swiftly, the Blood Talon turned to glare.

"What the hell was that for?"

"I told you not to call me that," Faith growled, closing the door and moving around him to lean against the edge of the nearby kitchen counter top. "Now... What did you need to talk to me about that was so important?"

The redhead couldn't help but smirk at the no-nonsense tone, even as he could see her bracing herself for whatever news he had brought. Contemplating on drawing the moment out just to watch her squirm, he decided against it and pulled the tournament invitation from his back pocket. Thrusting the now crumpled paper at her, he nodded as if to encourage her to take it.

Hesitantly she did so, looking at him quizzically as she unfolded the letter and began to read. Scanning through, the nervous woman frowned, feeling the edge of her anxiety dull greatly. If this was what he had to tell her it was incredibly anti-climactic.

"Congratulations?"

"Thanks. That's not why I showed it to you though."

"Then why..."

"Baek can't train you anymore."

The blunt statement was met with silence. Confused, hurt, and growingly angry silence.

Feeling the need to elaborate before she lashed out, Hwoarang continued, "It's not that he doesn't want to, but we've both got to focus on training up for the tournament and..."

"You guys don't think I could take it."

"That's not... Why the fuck are you smiling?!"

The sudden shift in expression was the last thing the biker was expecting and it had thrown him off balance.

"That's all this was about?" the relieved sounding woman asked. "Why didn't you just tell me earlier instead of making it all dramatic with waiting?"

"I thought you'd be pissed..."

"I'm not happy about it, no, and yeah, I'm a little pissed, but you should've just told me while we were at the dojang."

"After the pissfit you had about getting there on time? I don't think so." The redhead paused, looking at his girlfriend thoughtfully. "What did you think I wanted to tell you?"

"I figured you were getting sick of my bitchiness and were going back to Hyun-Ok's dyeing style. Or that you were gay. Whichever," she waved a hand dismissively.

Hwoarang snorted, recognizing the attempt to divert his attention away from the genuineness of the first statement. Joining her at the counter's edge, he placed one hand on either side of her and moved forward so she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.

"Hyun-Ok is even more of a harpy than you, not to mention being nowhere near as nimble. As for the gay comment," he leaned closer, "I think I've sufficiently shown you that I'm not."

"I dunno," the brunette drawled, playing with the collar of the white wifebeater he wore. "You act kind of questionable sometimes..."

"I'll show you questionable!" he growled, pulling her away from the counter and pinning with one arm around her waist so that her so that her back lay against his chest.

With the fingers of his free hand stroking through the locks of her hair, the redhead buried his face in the curve of her shoulder, nipping and kissing along the gentle slope in the way that made her melt.

"You just reward me for provoking you, you know that?" she chuckled softly, laying her own arm against the one that held her firm and interlacing her fingers with those of his that pressed against her stomach.

"Yeah, I know. It's fun," he replied, pulling back to smile. His expression turned serious, however, as he reminded himself that moments like this would be few and far between in only a couple weeks. He said as much. "I'm not going to be around much once Baek and I start getting ready for the tournament. And when you do see me I'll probably be grumpy, asleep, or both."

"What else is new?"

"I'm being serious, Faith, believe it or not. I'm not gonna get to spend all that much time with you until after the tournament. Can you handle that?"

"I've spent how many years without a man, and you ask me if I can handle a month or two? You idiot..." she felt him stiffen up, but gave the fingers laced beneath her own a gentle squeeze, pulling away slightly so she could turn her head enough to look up at him "I'll just have to handle looking forward to seeing you. So just make damn sure I stay content when I do and I'll repay the favor."

Hwoarang mulled over her words, and the teasing smile directed his way, and felt a grin starting to spread across his face. That sounded like a challenge. He loved a challenge.

_

* * *

_

_Ending Author's Note:_

_It's been a little over five years since this story was first published and now it's finally come to an end. After several rewritten chapters and tweaked details it's finally done. And I'm **relieved**. :)_

_I'd first like to thank all of you readers and reviewers for stopping by and taking the time to read my attempts at romance writing, and for leaving the feedback that helped me to improve or encouraged me through bouts of writer's block. _

_I must give special thanks to **Razer Athane**, who is the one that inspired me to come back to this story and finish it after several years of hiatus, as well as cheering me on through motivational dry spells via review, dA, or kicking my ass into gear on MSNM. (Go read her work, it's wonderful!)  
_

_And now I'd like to share my celebratory 'it's finished!' commission that I ordered (although admittedly I ordered it before finishing. ^^; ). The link is on my profile under The Blood Talon's Heart section. _


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